Epiphaneia
by Siriusly Orion Wicked
Summary: "A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something." It only took a moment for the wolf to know, but in the end it was his choice. Birthday gift for Sableunstable.
1. Girl

**AN: This is a birthday gift for the lovely Sableunstable. I'm a little late (25 minutes my time) but this will hopefully be updated and finished within the week.**

 **I swear all the clovers in the world looked out for me when _this_ particular friendship took place. I LOVE YOU, Sable.**

 **...**

She was running late.

 _How_ was she running late with her new trinket, she couldn't say. Time was somehow slipping away even faster and it was the first day of class! Fine, so, maybe she had been to Divination _and_ Muggle Studies, still, time wasn't meant to go by this quickly. Arithmancy, then Transfiguration and then she could have Lunch. She was starving for some reason and she couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for Ron.

 _If this is how he goes about life I could almost understand his half-famished attitude_ , she thought.

Then she recalled how Ron had shoved food down his throat just that morning, as if the food would run out any minute, his table manners so abysmal she had lost her appetite. Perhaps that was why she was in her current hunger predicament. She decided that no amount of hunger could justify eating like a rabid beast.

She had to run now if she was to make it on time for her first lesson with Professor Vector. The professor didn't seem like she would take kindly to tardiness. Of course, she could do a half turn or a full turn to give herself some spare time, but then she'd have to wait for the class to start and she'd be further away from lunch. Also, half turns were tricky and very unreliable. Now, she only had to find an empty classroom on the seventh floor where she could use the Time Turner safely.

 _Almost there, you're almost there_ , she told herself as she rushed through the hallway.

 _Empty, here we go._

She had yet to grow used to the sensation of time travel. It was quite… peculiar. She hesitated before going for the knob, only to give it a sure tug.

Nothing happened. The handle wasn't giving in. She tried a little harder and still nothing.

Maybe she'd broken it somehow or she'd jammed it with all her running about, the poor thing bouncing from her neck. It was probably caught with a piece of lint. She couldn't see any, though.

One last try.

As soon as she pushed the knob the Time Turner raced between her fingers with no signs of stopping. Hermione started to panic when she realised she couldn't cease the seemingly unending turning of the timepiece. It just kept going round and round, increasing its speed as it went. The bookworm could feel the unease of time travel flow through her and she felt sick to her stomach.

One day, she'd had the blasted thing for _one day._

She closed her eyes, not wanting to face the calamity that was taking place.

The ringing in her ears stopped, the sickening feeling disappeared swiftly. She'd arrived some _when_.

Opening her eyes she could tell she was still in the same empty classroom, that had thankfully remained empty. Perhaps she hadn't gone so far back, everything was going to be fine.

Cracking the door open by an inch she checked for other roaming students but the corridor appeared to be deserted.

 _Check right, check lef_ -UMPH.

She walked right into a wall of flesh, and not plush flesh at that, that smelled _divine_ and was now staring down at her with an amused expression. Green eyes bore into her own almost with animalistic precision, searching. _Searching?_

"I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I won't hold you up any longer." She was about to give her back to him when she noticed something rather important.

Shaggy dirty blond hair, striking green irises bordered with black, or was it dark green? Beneath them dark purplish shadows that spoke of little sleep. Impressive build, really, for someone so young, he clearly played Quidditch. Tall frame, much taller than her and around his neck was a Gryffindor tie.

 _A Gryffindor tie on a Gryffindor I do not recognise._

Oh, Merlin. Merlin! Had she gone into the future? He was clearly not in the years ahead of her but also not in the years beneath her.

 _So, I'm at least… What, four years into the future? Enough time for there to be a new batch of third years,_ she thought _. Stay calm, stay calm_ , she told herself.

The boy in question had yet to utter a word. He zeroed in on her eyes and it appeared he had no intention of looking away. He took a deep breath and she saw something in his eyes _shift_.

 _What…?_

He clearly could tell she was uneasy because he dropped his shoulders from their previously tense position -had they been hunched?- and relaxed a bit to make her comfortable.

"Were you on your way to class?" His voice was surprisingly deep, for someone who looked to be a third year. So young but with the voice of a young man, low, with some sand and yet obviously barely a glimpse of what it would become.

"I haven't seen you around." His voice, the one she'd been focusing on, took her out of her stupor. "What class do you have now?" He asked softly, he'd noticed he had startled her.

"I'm… I'm late for Arithmancy." Hermione's voice cracked, she had no idea what had taken over her.

"I didn't think there was Arithmancy on Fridays." His eyes were so intense, a complete disconnect from the softness of his voice and the casualness of his words.

 _Friday. It was Friday wher…_ when _ever she was_ , she reasoned.

"Better be on my way. Don't want to be late." The words almost sounded like one big word, all jumbled up together. It took a second to look away from his captivating green eyes but she waited for no reply as she walked back into the empty classroom.

Immediately upon closing the door, the Time Tuner started to spin on its own accord faster even than last time, threatening to get loose of its hinges. Nausea and a splitting headache struck her as if she'd been slapped by a Giant.

A second, then two and it was over.

When she regained her breath and her head stopped pulsing she got up to her feet and took in her surroundings. The same empty classroom, a few of the chairs moved place. Had they been originally like that?

 _Oh, Merlin. Please, please tell me I didn't travel further into the future_ , she silently pleaded.

As she walked out of the classroom she ran head first into someone even taller than last time.

 _Why does this keep happening?!,_ she screamed internally.

"Miss Granger?" A female who knew who she was. Good signs.

Looking up she found herself looking into the eyes of Professor Vector.

"You're almost late for class, I was about to walk into the classroom myself." The Arithmancer's eyebrows were furrowed. Not such a good sign. "If I were you I'd try to get in before I do."

Not needing further prompting, Hermione scrambled to the door marked 7A.

Septima had heard great things about this student in particular. She'd also heard the little bookworm had a knack for finding trouble with her two best friends. Not knowing what to make of the pupil she went on to class, and decided only time would tell.


	2. Boy

**AN: So, obviously things didn't work out the way I hoped! The next couple of chapters are done, so they'll be up soon! GBT is somewhat on hold. Feel free to stop by Tumblr and read my RL Update or just leave a comment or an ask, same name.**

 **Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favourites. Love you all!**

 **Sable, this is for you, darling.**

...

He was running late.

Charms was about to start and he was barely midway through the seventh floor. Bloody Sirius had somehow gotten his hands on a handful of fleas and put them in his underwear drawer.

The stupid mutt was going to get his… And soon.

They'd been working all month on the lengthening properties of certain potions ingredients and just last Monday they had successfully brewed the very first batch of their Tongue lengthening solution. Granted, the name needed work, but they had yet to find an actual use for it other than exactly that: to make their tongues longer. In what possible scenario would a long tongue come in handy? Such a useless yet brilliant solution. Solution… _This_ could be the solution! A prank! He could give it a use and get revenge on Sirius at the same time!

 _Brilliant! He'll think twice before messing with me again_ , he thought.

Sirius had a date in the Astronomy Tower with the lovely Dorcas Meadows later that day, and Remus had just the Tongue elongating solution for the occasion. That ought to give his date more than she'd bargained for.

He was a quiet boy, a bit more reserved than the rest of his friends, mostly because he didn't want to draw attention to himself but, truth be told, he was just as wicked, if not more so than the rest of them. Hogwarts personnel should be grateful he was mellowed out given his circumstances or the four of them would burn the school down… accidentally, of course.

The full moon was in two weeks, which meant he had physically recuperated from the last moon and he'd have a couple of days of bliss before it started to deteriorate with the upcoming moon. These were the days when he _almost_ felt normal. His senses were still keener, but his energy felt inexhaustible and his body could take a little exercise without feeling sick. He felt like playing Quidditch and pulling pranks, he felt like kissing girls. He'd had his first kiss not three weeks ago with Marlene McKinnon on Thursday. It hadn't been as momentous as Sirius made it out to be, but he'd enjoyed it. Now, however, he was avoiding her like the plague. The reasons were obvious to his friends but the poor girl must be confused and hurt. Remus resolved to never go near girls again.

Sirius kept teasing them because he'd had his first kiss in First year. The third year girls at the time had been playing truth or dare and even _then_ they'd found an 11 year old Sirius attractive enough to giggle about kissing him. Peter had kissed a girl in Second year, though the jury was still out given that consent on the girl's part was very much debatable. Sirius argued that if the look of utter repulsion on the girl's part was anything to go by, then he had definitely assaulted the poor creature. Peter maintained that the girl had been willing in the beginning but had become disgusted _after_ the fact, not realising that his defence against being a predator was weak if not a bit sad.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the slightly uneven tiles and his shoe caught on the floor making him stumble over. He regained his balance just in time, only to have a body collided with his out of nowhere.

It was a girl. Her scent wrapped around him like a blanket and it warmed him from the tips of the hairs on the back of his neck to his every toe. He was amused by her facial expression. She looked so absolutely put out, a small frown on her forehead, her lips softly pursed. She had the expression of a child that hadn't quite gotten her way.

But then she looked at him straight in the eye. _Hot_ , his skin became almost unbearably hot and he didn't dare breathe again. Her eyes. Her chocolate eyes bore into him and he felt rooted to the ground. Blood was pumping in his veins so fast it was a wonder they hadn't given into the friction.

There was something about her, there was something _different_ about her. He'd never come across anyone that had made him feel so… He didn't know exactly what. He couldn't place it.

What was it?

He couldn't help but look into her eyes, somehow expecting to find the answer there.

"I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I won't hold you up any longer," she said and almost turned around, but she stopped mid-turn and her eyes grew a fraction. Her voice had an unexpected effect over his body. It felt like a chill ran down his spine, cold but then hot right after. Everything about her made him feel warm and… and what? It was as if his body was trying to tell him something. Something he couldn't quite comprehend.

She was wearing a Hogwarts uniform and a Gryffindor tie at that, and yet he didn't recognise her. How was that even possible? How could this girl have been walking around Hogwarts for three years of his life and he'd not noticed her?

Deep within his thoughts, he didn't notice that the girl appeared to be hyperventilating. He assumed she was a Third year, too, she looked about his age, her cheeks young and swollen, her teeth a scale bigger than her mouth, her hair… Merlin, her hair. It was wild and it was clear to him that nothing would be able to tame it, there was no reasoning with that beast. Oh, how he hoped she was as untamable as her hair.

 _If she's anything like that unreasonable thing over her head, I'm lost,_ he thought.

He took a deep breath and something quite strange came over him. It felt like confidence, not that he'd felt that many times in his life, but he could recognise it well enough. He'd felt it during DADA, knowing he could perform the defensive spells of the entire curriculum for Third year if asked. No one would, of course, it was the second week of September, but knowing he could, knowing that despite his condition he was better prepared than students with everything going for them, made him feel almost worth something. It made him feel like he wasn't a waste of space.

It made no sense whatsoever but, looking at her face, breathing her in, the smell of parchment, chocolate and ink, he felt like there was yet hope. Maybe he could belong somewhere and if that place was by her side he was certain he would belong to himself no longer.

And he would gladly lose himself to someone like her, he concluded, looking deep into her eyes. A determination to get to know the girl swept through him, a determination he wouldn't have thought possible just moments ago. He normally stayed away from girls, he could never have what his parents had, a normal relationship, with anyone. But this girl… Somehow, for some reason, just delving into her eyes made him think it was possible to be happy, to have it all. To have her.

If he had a choice, if she would give him a chance, she would have him. He was hers, he concluded.

Was this what James felt when he saw Lily? Suddenly his erratic and idiotic behaviour made sense. He hadn't said anything in response after she spoke and, catching her look of unease, he realised he'd been staring at her for the better part of a minute, maybe more. He tried to relax, noticing his shoulders were tense, almost ready to… To _pounce_? He had to make her feel comfortable around him, not threatened! Bloody wolf.

 _Way to go, Moony. We'll convince her to be around us by the time Nicholas Flamel dies, at this rate_ , he thought.

"Were you on your way to class?" he tried asking politely. He didn't want to scare her off more than he probably already had.

She looked a bit like a deer seized by a Lumos. Her brain was clearly struggling to function properly and he wondered what was going underneath all that hair.

"I haven't seen you around," he started again, trying to get the conversation flowing. It probably wasn't the most polite thing you could tell someone, ' _Hi, I had no idea you existed even though we're in the same school, same house and live in the same tower'… Yes, smooth going_ , he berated himself mentally. "What class do you have now?" he asked softly; he noticed he had startled her once again. He really, _really_ , wanted to know what was going through her head.

"I'm… I'm late for Arithmancy." Her voice cracked and she looked like she wanted to run. Perhaps she had keener senses than he'd given her credit for and her instincts were probably telling her, accurately, that she was prey in this particular scenario.

"I didn't think there was Arithmancy on Fridays." Evidently the girl wasn't thinking clearly, he wouldn't question her, though, he just wanted to keep her there in front of him, talking. Or simply there, allowing him to look at her.

"Better be on my way. Don't want to be late." The words almost sounded like one big word, all jumbled up together. She stayed a second longer, a small pause before she sprinted into the classroom next to them and promptly closed the door.

Had she been Confunded or something? That classroom had been empty for years, no classes took place there since Dumbledore himself taught Transfiguration there.

He followed after her, hoping to save her the embarrassment of getting late to whatever class she actually had that Friday and escort her there. Perhaps the act of chivalry would make her smile.

The thought, in turn, made him smile himself but it was short lived. When he opened the door he found nobody there. She was gone. No trace of her could be found in the empty classroom and he felt a stone drop in his stomach.

He felt a restlessness come over his whole body, anxiety overcoming his brain and a number of emotions he couldn't place.

 _Is this it? Has the wolf finally managed to drive me mad?_ he wondered.

His heart was beating out of his chest and he felt lightheaded. Something wasn't right, his whole body was telling him something was horribly wrong, but _what_?

He was having a panic attack of some sort, his psyche had probably cracked and he was having a breakdown of some kind.

 _Breathe in and breathe out_. He could hear his mother's voice telling him in his head and he did.

He took one big breath through the nose and exhaled from the mouth. In and out. One breath, two, three, four.

He could breathe again. He could think. The amount of oxygen reaching his brain was the right amount and he could feel the blood reach his brain and his limbs properly now.

Except, in his next breath, he detected her scent. She couldn't have been a fabrication of his brain if he could still smell her, right? _Right?_ The wolf could tell the smell was real. It had not been in his head. Then, what? _What had happened?_

Dumbledore. He had to run and tell the headmaster what had happened. What if something horrible had happened to her? He couldn't let anything happen to her.

It was an instinct that came over him beyond anything he'd ever felt. Really, it was beyond his understanding, but it felt so natural.

He just knew one thing: He had to protect her.

Come what may.


	3. Professor

**AN: Full moon today!**

 **There are a lot of questions about this story and they'll all be answered soon! I'm planning around seven or eight chapters maximum for this story, so it should all be very clear soon. If you still have questions or** **feel like having a chat you can contact me through Tumblr, same name, and I'll be more than happy to reply.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Sable, tis all for you.**

...

Remus understood this was the best opportunity he'd had in his life since going to Hogwarts as a student. He understood that coming back as a Professor was just as surprising and unbelievable as attending the school as a pupil had been in the first place. He knows he should be grateful, beyond grateful, really, that Dumbledore has asked him to come back and teach. He knows things have never looked brighter for him, that his future, at last, doesn't seem like he's going to starve until he can find work at a muggle supermarket for a couple of months before getting fired for missing more than three days of work each of those months. This meant he would have a sure income for a whole year, without having to worry about spending on food, lodging or even trying to save, and fail, to afford Wolfsbane.

He'd be trying Wolfsbane for the first time in his life. He had dreamt of it, he'd hoped the day would come when he was one of the lucky werewolves who could partake on the miracle potion. He never imagined it would come about like this.

And yet…

He was filled with dread. He would be around children. _Children._ Even with full access to the potion, Remus was wary about being near the castle. He now saw how unbelievably reckless he'd been in his youth, his three best friends in tow, roaming about the Castle and the school grounds fully transformed and no Wolfsbane to speak of. He'd put so many lives in danger and, best case scenario, he'd risked turning someone into a monster. Just like him.

Hogsmeade was too close, the Willow too unpredictable. There was no doubt in Remus' mind that his friends would have worked out how to get past the boxing tree if he hadn't told them how to do it. The Marauders were incredibly resilient and talented, Animagi at fifteen; McGonagall would have had a fit had she known. But they weren't the smartest nor the most clever group of boys to ever cross Hogwarts. If they could, surely some other group of boys or girls could figure it out. Figure _him_ out. And what would happen after that? He was registered, sure. But he'd mostly disappeared from wizarding society after… Not that he was ever a prominent figure. Nobody really knew his name. His social life had consisted of his three best friends and Lily. Two best friends. Two.

There was also _that_. His friends died, but his past seemed to have a life of its own, denying his every plea for it to die with them and let him live in peace. It almost seemed to have purposefully left an imprint in the world, the intention to become a ghost, to better haunt him every few years... Or hours. Nobody really knew him to be close with the famous Potters. Only the Professors at Hogwarts and their classmates seemed to remember him. Of course, he'd been quiet all those years, hoping that nobody would notice the sickly kid that somehow befriended the good-looking Quidditch stars. But everywhere he looked they seemed to be there. _He_ seemed to be there.

Rage filled him and he could almost feel the wolf pacing anxiously inside of him. The moon had been mere days ago and he had yet to recuperate. He couldn't fly and he shouldn't floo or apparate in his condition. Dumbledore suggested he take the train, the shiny red Express that had led him to the only place he had known acceptance outside of his parents. He had been reluctant at first but the blue-eyed headmaster wouldn't be denied.

And so, he boarded and promptly fell asleep to dreams of a screaming madman. He struggled to recognise him as the boy who'd once bought the whole supply of chocolate bars from Honeydukes the weekend of a particularly nasty full moon. To this day, he still had some bars left, but he couldn't bear to look at them, let alone eat them.

A sudden chill ran down his spine, and at first he attributed it to the dream, or nightmare, he was having. But then his thoughts turned sombre, or more so than they had been before. He remembered vividly the despair he'd felt when everything he held dear was suddenly gone. He remembered thinking about death, what it would feel like to die and join his friends. Something had held him back, though. Something he couldn't place. Something he couldn't leave behind.

His senses came back to him in a rush and instantly he knew there were other people in the compartment with him. Children. They were children.

The door slid open and suddenly the air was knocked out of lungs, the familiar feeling of hopelessness that so characterised Dementors swept through his mind. An instinct stronger than the miserable feeling overrode his brain and took over:

Keep them safe.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The Dementor was gone and a kid was on the floor. A rush of blood pumped to his head and with a start he realised it was a sigh of relief, the wolf was in protective mode. A moment later he realised why.

Lily's eyes were looking back at him from the floor. The ghost of his past had taken corporeal form and underneath the chubby cheeks of youth, he could see the features of his best friend staring at him, eyes scared and desperate.

He registered the presence of a girl there, a bushy haired girl that was all over Harry once he'd given him a piece of chocolate. He distributed the pieces between the students and after giving them one last look he took off to talk to the driver.

Somehow he knew Harry was in good hands.

…

Harry was everything he could have hoped him to be. Everything except well fed. Guilt festered inside of him, but then shame and disgust would follow. He could never have Harry or do him any good. He had no money, prospects, or a decent way of life to offer him. He'd probably starve just as badly with him if he wasn't with the Dursleys.

 _But he would be loved_ , he could almost hear Lily's voice and it almost started a wave of sobs.

But he was talented. The boy had a knack for Defence and Remus supposed that should have been obvious to everyone after his fateful encounter with Voldemort. He was sweet and kind, if not a bit volatile. Even though he couldn't remember them, he was a true mix of his father and his mother. He had Lily's kindness and James' hot headedness, her smile and her eyes but he had Prongs' nose. It was so strange to see him walk around, the distinctive Potter hair at Hogwarts once more. Remus was lucky to have had them in his life as long as he did. Such friends came around once in a lifetime.

Harry had good friends. The Weasley boy seemed a bit daft if nothing else, but he was loyal and from a good family. Hermione was a brilliant little witch, smart as a Ravenclaw and, though she may deny it, cunning as a Slytherin. She wasn't a very good liar, though. She was clearly up to something, late for several classes, half arsed excuses. He just hoped the Marauders hadn't been as obvious when they'd been at school. He remembered being somewhat smooth in their time, or at least he'd thought he was. However, she was a responsible girl. Remus knew she wasn't up to no good like his group of friends had been. She was special, and he felt a special sort of protectiveness over her if not for Harry because she reminded him of himself at that age. Hermione seemed starved for acceptance, for friendship, for recognition.

She didn't have to overcome being a monster, not like him, but being a Muggleborn still carried some stigma and social weight to it, despite their best efforts during the war and all they'd given up to fight prejudice.

She would do well in the world, even if she didn't know it yet.

…

The girl had known. Hermione had known all along that he was a Werewolf and she had told nobody. She had kept his secrets because she thought him human, she thought him worthy of her trust. Suddenly, the trust of this child meant everything. This child that had kept Harry safe, that had rescued Sirius…

 _Sirius_.

He was still somewhat shellshocked after the unexpected turn of events. Sirius, his friend, was innocent. He hadn't betrayed James. Somehow everything made sense in his brain again. It had never quite clicked, his betrayal. He would have sooner given up his life than the secret of the Potter's whereabouts, and somewhere in his brain he had acknowledged this all along.

But Peter... Remus could have never imagined their small, quiet friend was the one that took everything he ever held dear. Their friend, the one he thought most similar to himself. He felt disgust for a moment and then the rage was back, the burning want, the need to see the filthy rat dead.

He was a monster, more so now than ever. Peter would have turned him a monster even while human. Harry had stopped stopped them, stopped _him_ , from becoming the very thing he hated the most. Harry had stopped his hand and the scared look on Hermione's face had sobered him.

If he was truly honest with himself the latter had shaken him to the core. For some reason being the cause of that look upon her face felt… It felt sickening. She had trusted him, she had kept his secret only to watch him become a murderer. _Almost_. He _almost_ became a murderer. Wasn't that the whole thing? The beast always roaming in the back of his mind, almost out, almost there in the surface?

Hogwarts brought back out everything good that was inside of him. Everything that Lily saw, everything his mother told him he was. He had been respected as a teacher, even admired by a few of the kids.

And now, he had to move on. Snape had seen to that. He'd be far from Harry and his friends, that was the only thing he truly lamented. Remus found a vocation in teaching, that much was true, but his failing towards his late friends stung more strongly than his failings toward himself. Back to the odd Muggle jobs, back to his broken house, back to nothing, really.

Something dark was looming over all of them and he feared his "unique knowledge" was going to be needed soon enough. Dumbledore had hinted he should stay close, keep his ears open. High alert. Constant Vigilance. It all felt so familiar. Leaving the only place where he had found friends, true acceptance once more into the fray of the unknown. But was it really unkown? Remus knew loss quite well, he also knew hunger and loneliness. Nothing had changed.

Nothing would ever change.


	4. Friend

**AN: Things remain a bit crazy in RL so the last two chapters will come but… probably not for a couple of weeks minimum. Special thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites. Your words and support mean everything.**

 **And as always:**

 **Sable, my love, this is for you.**

 **...**

It had taken him a while to adjust to all that had followed his year as a Professor. The curse on the position had proven real and off he was, back to being poor and alone.

Not quite as alone, though.

Getting his best friend back was something he hadn't ever really expected. The rage he'd felt at being deceived by their smaller friend, the fresh wave of old grief brought to life anew, the seemingly never ending guilt of letting Sirius rot, no questions asked, it was all consuming him slowly but silently.

Those days he'd been so full of rage, so sure Sirius had been the traitor. They had told him he'd confessed to the crime! What else was there to it?

Much else it seemed.

He'd never again be as foolish as to accept things as facts as they were given. Critical thinking was… well, critical. It would become his new way of approaching life after the war.

Padfoot kept saying that he forgave him, that he'd thought him the traitor, too, only to realise too late that it was Peter who was poisoning the well all along, his words festering with time. It was difficult to get over the initial feeling that he had failed them all. All the time Remus had spent with the packs, frustrated that he could do nothing more for the Order, had only served to alienate him from his friends and garner no useful information to their efforts. So much time lost that he could have spent with his friends. Maybe things would have been different if…

No. There was no use for 'what ifs'.

Not everybody seemed to share his feelings, though. Dora kept hovering over him, hoping they would get back together and while he had cared for her, he couldn't bring himself to stay with her. She kept asking him what would have happened if they had stayed together, said that maybe they'd have a kid by now. He shuddered violently at the thought. After the war his feelings for her had pretty much… vanished. Which left him thinking that their relationship had been all about the war and his fear of dying alone.

He didn't love her. He couldn't see himself falling in love with her in the future. They had no future. Molly wouldn't hear of it, though, calling him a fool and pestering him to the point where he was avoiding The Burrow altogether.

' _It's just a temporary break, you'll see,'_ the redhead matriarch kept repeating.

But it wasn't. He'd found himself avoiding the metamorphmagus more and more, as if she'd somehow been sprayed with repellent. Her smell had changed and it was suddenly a sour odor that he couldn't take for long periods.

He had been living in Grimmauld place with Harry and Hermione for the past year. Things had settled into a very comfortable cohabitation. They weren't kids anymore, both had turned twenty-one by now and they needed no looking after. They were all friends and Hermione had even become his colleague.

He was the first werewolf in history to work for the Ministry and he would be lying if he said he wasn't proud of it. He still received nasty looks, and from time to time he could hear people talking about how disgusting it was to work in the same building as him.

Nothing could damper his mood of late, given the fact that he was legally allowed a dignified way of making a living. After everything he had been through there was a beauty in knowing he'd be able to eat at the end of the day and he'd a have a roof and job the following day.

And it was all because of Hermione. She'd grown into such an amazing human being. She was everything everyone had hoped she would become. Well, everything but the wife of Ronald Weasley. He was secretly pleased with the development; Remus didn't really understand why everyone else thought they were suited for each other. Opposites attract, Tonks had told him once on the topic, but Remus thought they were just too different. They valued such different things! And, more often than not, they couldn't really share their passions. What Hermione found interesting and drove her to the point of hyperactiveness, like her research about werewolves, bored Ron like few other things did. In a similar fashion, the redhead's constant chatting about Quidditch and joke products drove Hermione insane.

It wasn't just the differing interests, though. He was sure Hermione and Fred had a secret relationship before he lost his memories. To their surprise, according to the healers, the reason the wall that fell on him during The Battle of Hogwarts, collapsed and exploded, was rampant magic and not a Bombarda. This came with the horrible consequence of magical loss of memories for the Weasley twin. It had taken him months to come out of his coma and when he woke up…

It had been heartbreaking for their whole family and friends to watch the twins trying to talk in sync but fail miserably.

Hermione wasn't quite the same for some time.

The bookworm had promptly thrown herself at her work and had accomplished impossible feats in a ridiculously short time. In just three years she'd managed to change the law. It was now illegal to deny any werewolf who was taking Wolfsbane a job or a decent wage. She'd spent the money that came with her Order of Merlin to build a farm solely dedicated to producing the ingredients required to brew the Wolfsbane. Half of what was produced there was sold, the income from it was used to support the farm. The rest was used to make the potion and provide it for free for any Werewolf who would have it.

Three years.

Three years it had taken her to change his life beyond recognition.

The fireplace flared to life, bringing forth the witch in question. Her wild mane almost looked as if it were on fire and her eyes still reflected the green flames, even after they'd all but extinguished.

Hermione Granger was a sight to behold.

"Remus! I'm so glad I've found you!" She was struggling to breathe properly, she'd clearly been running or hurrying about before she'd gone to Grimmauld.

"I didn't realise I was lost." he said, a soft laugh escaping him.

"I can barely contain my excitement. I'm ready to burst! I feel like dancing and crying and… And…" She couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Go on, then, don't keep me in the dark. You know I can't handle suspense very well." he urged.

"I've found one, Remus. I've actually found one." she said, a little breathless.

"Were we looking for something? This is work related, isn't it?" He was confused. They worked together in what was now called the Werewolf liaison department. They'd been working on finding funding to build another Lunatic Estate for the past few months, as well as country wide distribution of Wolfsbane. Had she been working on a side project?

Hermione cringed slightly and said, "I'm sorry, Rem, I didn't think I'd be able to find them! I didn't know if they were real. Even Luna told me it was just a myth, that this may be a useless search!" she confessed.

Now he was really surprised. It wasn't often people managed to get something past him, but even so he would never have imagined a scenario in which Luna Lovegood told Hermione Granger she was on a wild goose chase.

"And what _did_ you find, Hermione?" He was growing curious beyond belief.

"I've been keeping tabs on a couple of Werewolves. I heard some rumors about a couple that lived in Ireland." She paused, for what he supposed was a dramatic effect, took a deep breath and then spoke softly, her voice trembling.

"A _mated_ Werewolf couple."

All the excitement and the build up fled Remus' body. This was an urban legend that was as old as the curse itself. He'd never met or heard of a real werewolf who had found their mate. Even during the first war, when he'd lived with several Werewolf packs and they all agreed on that account.

Mates were fiction.

"Hermione…" he started, but she immediately interrupted.

"No, I know what you're about to say. Just… Come with me tomorrow. If nothing else I want to interview them for my book. It'll serve as research. I just ask that you come with me." Her eyes were pleading and her hands shaking. He could hear her heart beating a thousand times per second and he knew right then that even if he knew she'd be disappointed, he could never deny her.

"As if I'd ever let you go without me." He managed a smile and he tried not to laugh when the witch threw herself at him and almost strangled him with the force of her boa constrictor hug.

This amazing woman had grown so much in the past few years. She had broadened her mind to the point where she thought anything possible and she would pursue it with the strength and the single-mindedness of someone who thought it was fact. Her passion, her intelligence, her critical thinking made her so utterly …

He stopped his thoughts at that.

His whole body went rigid with a realisation that washed over him like an arctic waterfall. He tried to loose himself from her grip she wouldn't let go. Her smell cut through his thoughts and his body melted involuntarily.

"When is the Portkey leaving tomorrow?" He asked out loud, hoping it would prompt the witch to let go. But she didn't move, in fact, she only seemed to sink deeper into his arms.

"9:00 am. They'll be expecting us at 10:00 sharp." The vibration of her voice made his whole chest tingle and it froze him in place. He could feel his face and his ears grow warm.

He needed to find a way to get out of the house without literally pushing her away from his person. Now.

"I've got to be going, sweetheart. I'm meeting Sirius for a beer or two." It was the first thing that came to mind. He just hoped Hermione didn't know Sirius was out on a date. The Animagus had moved a street away into a Muggle apartment to remain close to Harry but out of his childhood home; Remus hoped he hadn't said something during lunch.

"Oh, so late?" She had yet to move from the crook of his neck. He was running out of options and growing anxious by the minute.

"Yeah, he had a date that didn't go very well." He pushed her softly from him and, taking the hint, if not a bit reluctantly, she moved away.

"I'm sure he'll have another tomorrow that'll turn out just fine." Her smile took over her whole face, the fondness for his best mate clearly shown on her face.

He almost felt a hint of jealousy that quickly died down and panicked by the feeling he said a quick goodbye and sprinted for the door.

 _What in the fuck is wrong with me?_ was his last thought before apparating away.


	5. Co-worker

**AN:** **So, life has been a massive B… ellatix. I'm trying to catch up to everything but RL is doing a pretty good impersonation of Dolores Umbridge at the moment and I've barely got my sanity intact (debatable) as it is. I know I've been gone for ages, which has been entirely involuntary, but I promise I'll do my best to finish my WIPs soon. Anyone who'd like to know a little more can go to my Tumblr page and read my Personal Update.**

 **As always, this goes to the reason for this story: SableUnstable. Her birthday has long since passed but my love for her remains. This is for you, my darling.**

...

He hated himself, possibly now more than ever. He was disgusting in every way that mattered.

He had feelings for Hermione Granger. _Hermione Granger_. Of all the women in the world, why did he have to have feelings for such a beam of light, such a young, bright rising star?

He was a monster even while human.

He was in the bathroom of his new flat, washing his face, hoping to wash out the shame that clung to his every cell. Remus couldn't even look himself in the mirror, he knew who was there, and couldn't bear to see into his own eyes.

He'd barely slept, if you could even call tossing and turning half-conscious sleep. He didn't handle change very well, having moved every so often to keep the Lupin's neighbours unconcerned with the werewolf threat.

And yet, life kept throwing him into the fray. His life had taken such sharp turns in the past decade, everything had changed and while he was grateful for most of those changes it still left him with a horrible sense of vertigo.

He was on his way to the kitchen for some tea when Hermione appeared through the floo, a look of concern and simultaneous annoyance on her face.

"Remus Lupin! It's almost 9:00, where have you been?" She looked like she'd been pacing for a long time before deciding to show up at his flat.

Giving him one glance from head toe she assessed the situation. She proceeded to grab what looked like an Invigorating draught, put it in his hand and ran her hand through his hair, presumably to comb it. He tried not to think about how good it felt, the sensation of her fingers through his locks, her nails lightly scraping his scalp.

"Drink it. We have an hour to talk before we have to meet our couple." Her hand fell on Remus' cheek and despite her calm demeanour, he could see the concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine, I just didn't get enough sleep." He wanted to pull away, to tell her he was a horrible man that revelled in her touch and she should stop herself. He would suffer in silence as long as she was alright. She didn't know she was doting on a man that wanted her as a woman and not only as a friend and she could never know. He couldn't hurt her feelings, though; he wouldn't pull away from her touch.

 _Merlin, how loathsome can I be?_ he thought to himself. He drank the potion and felt it do its magic.

"We'll talk once we get there," she assured him softly. Grabbing his hand, she walked him to the kitchen, she took the empty phial, threw it in the bin and they just waited for the Portkey to activate, holding hands.

A strange serenity overcame him, all his senses were focused on her. The number of freckles on the bridge of her nose, the soft indentation on her skin next to her ear, the various shades of brown in her eyes, the scent that always followed her around: parchment, chocolate and ink.

Unexpectedly, Remus felt the pull to his navel and the characteristic sensation of being passed through a very fine tube. He hadn't realised that the Portkey was a ring she was wearing until she released his hand and took it off.

 _What is wrong with me? She wasn't holding my hand, it was merely to travel safely together_ , he thought.

His brain had been a right bastard since he'd realised he had feelings for the witch. He had spent the whole night thinking about every encounter they'd had since they started working together, trying to piece together the progression, the moment the nature of his feelings for her had changed. But nothing could be pieced, nothing could be accounted for. He was terrified he'd been subconsciously interested in her longer than it was… appropriate. Merlin, he was disgusting.

But no, the wolf kept providing memories of his year at Hogwarts. Protectiveness. Admiration. Gratefulness. Those were the feeling he's felt for the witch for years, until…

Until her 20th birthday. Well, not exactly. His feelings hadn't suddenly changed one day and forever.

But he remembered noticing her hair that day. It looked wilder than usual and it was the first time he had ever thought of her as a woman. She had been one for quite some time and they'd been working together for a year at that point but it was difficult to let go of the image of her thirteen-year-old self. A version of her, he noted, that Remus had felt no attraction to whatsoever.

Relieved, but still confused, he followed her through the Irish town of which he knew not the name of and remained silent. At this point, silence would be his only ally.

It didn't last long. Hermione sat down at a small table belonging to a nearby cafe and ordered two teas.

"What's wrong?" She wasn't the sort of woman to beat around the bush and while it was normally refreshing, this time, it felt somewhat suffocating.

"The wolf was… Restless last night." Was the only thing he managed to say. He could never let her know the true nature of his feelings, there was no use, and if he were being completely honest, he wouldn't risk losing her, having her completely out of his life. How could he be so selfish?

"Is it because you're meeting other wolves?" she asked softly.

"I'm not sure." He _was_ sure, he knew exactly why the wolf was in distress. His human counterpart was battling the attraction towards the young witch and, for some reason, the wolf felt a very compelling pull towards her.

Dangerous. The whole thing was so dangerous.

The tea arrived and he noticed Hermione had ordered his favourite brand and was now pouring a splash of milk and one sugar into his cup. Exactly the way he took it. She took her black tea without milk or sugar.

"I think this will be great for research if nothing else. Even if they're not truly mated they are the first werewolves who have agreed to an interview for the book, real names and everything. I think this could do you some good, Remus. They've lived in this community for a long time, safely and without incident." She looked him straight in the eye before saying: "It is possible, you know. To be happy with someone and be a part of society, have that normalcy of a regular life."

His eyes were buzzing and his skin was burning. He didn't know what possessed him to ask but he couldn't help the regurgitation of words that followed.

"Is that what you want, Hermione? A regular, normal life?"

There was a pause that stretched in his mind for what felt like millennia. He was about to apologise for his indiscreet question when she interrupted him.

"I don't think normalcy is in the cards for me." It was a simple statement and yet it held so much weight to it. "I've never been considered normal and, when I could have been, I focused on being everything _but_ average." She looked at peace with the thought, her face calm and simply contemplative.

"I'm alright with that, though. I've come to realise I aspire… That I long for something more. I don't think I'd be happy with normal anymore. Not after the life I've led so far." Remus had no reply to that. "But I…" the words dying in her mouth.

They stayed in silence for a long while, staring at each other without really noticing what they were doing.

Hermione's wand vibrated, reminding them that they had a meeting to get to. Hermione paid for their consumption and they left without a word. There was no real awkwardness during their walk to the house but Remus _felt_ awkward. He would get through this, he had gotten over his feelings for Lily, he could get over this silly crush on Hermione.

He didn't notice they had already arrived at a small cottage until Hermione rung the bell, reminding him that they were there for a reason.

"Just a moment!" came a muffled baritone voice from inside the cottage.

Seconds later an elderly man opened the door.

"Hermione, I presume." His voice was strangely compelling; Remus immediately knew he was an Alpha or could be if he had a mind to assert his dominance despite his age. Remus was an Alpha himself, it was strange that he'd felt no impulse to protect Hermione or to challenge the other man in any way.

"Indeed and this is my partner, Remus Lupin." She gestured toward him and a warm feeling came over him at the word _partner_.

The old werewolf regarded him closely and had a twinkle in his eyes that reminded him of Dumbledore, the one that hinted at the knowing of secrets and going ons in the world.

"Pleasure," Remus replied simply and offered his hand. They were invited in after Victarion introduced himself and lead them to a small living room were an old lady stood waiting for them.

"This is my love, Aurelyce."

As they all sat down, it finally dawned on Remus how old the couple of werewolves actually were and he was struck with shock for a moment before he regained himself. Werewolves weren't known for their longevity. In fact, reaching fifty was a feat for most of them when a lot of werewolves were recluses that didn't have jobs or access to healing potions after the moon. Remus had always thought himself a lucky exception and, while he secretly held a higher expectancy of life than most, he had never expected, even in his most optimistic dreams, to reach the age of the couple in front of him.

"I'm sorry, but, may I inquire as to your age. It must seem incredibly rude of me but when Hermione mentioned we were meeting a werewolf couple I never imagined…" He drifted off.

"That we'd be so old?" Finished Aurelyce for him, she was smiling, which put him at ease but he was still a bit mortified for even asking.

"That you'd be so much more advanced in age compared to me, no." Remus managed to muster.

"Well, I am one hundred and two years old, and my love is ninety-two." Victarion had such an easy smile, it was infectious. You could tell the man had something, he could only think to describe it as inner peace. Yes… He seemed at peace with himself.

"I am not! These bones have ninety years to them, you sod! Is your memory starting to go now? So soon?" The bite in her tone was both playful and chastising, and given his look of panic he quickly reached for her hand and kissed it softly in an attempt to appease her.

"I'm sorry, my love, forgive this old werewolf his sins?" The sheer look of adoration he threw her was enough to melt the angry pressure between her eyebrows and smile at him.

"I always have, haven't I?"

Remus and Hermione were so enthralled by the scene playing before them that when the couple turned to them they almost felt like they were in a beautiful play and the fourth wall had been broken. Aurelyce stood and brought some tea, milk and sugar and served each to their liking.

"You have questions, I presume." Victarion addressed Hermione.

Remus couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, the soft rumbling in his chest giving him away. Hermione turned to him with a glare and her cheeks pinkened slightly.

"And you'd be right." She replied a bit tersely, giving Remus a reproachful look. "First of all, I'd like to thank you both for agreeing to the interview in the first place, I can't say how grateful I am. If I ask anything that makes either of you uncomfortable or if I ask an insensitive question, please, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Oh, you'll know right away if you offend her," Victarion said with cheek, which was swiftly followed by a slap to the back of his head.

"Alright, then." Hermione laughed softly, not so secretly enchanted by the old couple. "I suppose my first question would be, when did you first know you were mates?"

"Well, I suppose that answer has several parts. We met each other as children, we grew up together as a part of the Nightwish Clan, so it took a few years before we were actually interested in each other."

"I'm sorry, the Nightwish Clan?"

"The werewolves of old didn't really think of their turning as a curse, they relished on being one with nature. Of course, holding those beliefs and being a part of society didn't really bode well for either party, so the Clans were formed. The Nightwish Clan was the third and the one my ancestors and Aurelyce's ancestors belonged to."

"Initially, there were five Clans, all believed that The Turn was a gift. So they retreated into the deepest of woods and lived their lives there, as a community."

"Are the Clans still residing there? If they are, why did you leave?" Hermione was one with her quill, taking notes without even looking at her parchment notebook. Her eyes had zeroed in on Victarion and she looked almost as if under a spell.

Remus, on the other hand, wasn't quite sure how to feel about these Clans.

"No, there's nothing left in what used to be The Howling. Tom Riddle found us, you see. I believe I don't have to tell you of all people, Miss Granger, that Tom doesn't take well to being denied." The old werewolf was trying to be playful, Remus could tell, but there was no masking the sadness in his eyes.

"Five generations of werewolves had lived there and most of them annihilated. Some of us survived and fled but it was a difficult task." Victarion continued.

Remus' heart stopped. All of his worse fears were being confirmed in four words.

"I'm sorry, I thought you said five generations of werewolves. The lycanthropy gene is not passed on from progenitor to progeny." Hermione once again caught onto the real importance of his words.

"True."

There was a silence, in which the Remus couldn't really keep up with his thoughts and feelings as they developed.

"Then how— "

"We had a ritual. At age seventeen you got the choice between remaining as a true member of the Clan or go off into the world." Aurelyce spoke this time. Her voice was soft but unforgiving. A warning.

"A ritual." Remus could hardly contain his fury. The whole thing thing sounded like some sort of sick cult. He knew the warning in her voice was meant for him. The older werewolves could smell the threat, his anger.

"You're telling us you turned adolescents into Werewolves on purpose?" Hermione horrified voice almost made Remus reconsider his actions.

He stood up in a swift movement and -without really meaning to- he charged towards Victarion. A low growl came from the depths of the older werewolf's chest as he stood too, faster than Remus would have anticipated, stopping Remus in his tracks. He'd never felt something quite like this. Rage was still pulsing through him, but he couldn't move a muscle.

"Remus!" Hermione's reaction came too late, the whole thing having lasted mere seconds. "Let him go! What are you doing to him?" Her wand was out, having joined the others to her feet, but she didn't dare make a movement in case the old couple hurt Remus.

"He's not hurting him, Hermione. He's simply imposing his authority." Hermione looked as if she wasn't sure she should be reassured by Aurelyce's calm demeanour or grow even more defensive.

"Your reaction is understandable, young wolf, seeing that you were given The Curse and not The Gift. But that was not the case for our younglings." Victarion's voice was a little strained but composed. "Please sit, Remus," his voice falling an octave lower. It was a command.

Remus felt a strange sensation wash over him as if a film of cold water now clung to his very skin. He could do nothing else but sit down, as commanded by the Alpha in the room.

"Remus, stand up. We're leaving." Hermione was still standing, wand still clung in her hand.

"Hermione, he's fine. He's just being outpowered by an Alpha. Please sit down and listen to what we have to say." Aurelyce pleaded.

He could see her hesitate from the corner of his eye and Remus could barely hold the rage in.

"If I listen, will you let her go now?" He couldn't let anyone harm Hermione. He'd never experienced or even heard of magic like this. Even Greyback, the man that turned him, didn't hold this much power over him.

"We pose no threat to you or to her," Victarion replied in a very sure voice.

And for some reason, Remus believed him. His whole body relaxed, his muscles unclenched and he could breathe normally again. The old couple gave him a strange look but neglected to comment on whatever it was they'd found so interesting.

"It's okay, Hermione. Let's hear them out." He couldn't place what it was that made him tell her to back down. Remus' had been under an Imperius during the war, but it was very weak when cast upon a werewolf. This was nothing like it. It felt like a strange certainty that neither of the other wolves would hurt her.

"Remus—"

"I promise it'll be alright."

Hermione looked at him as if he'd gone insane. He wondered if he had for a moment. She sat down slowly but she didn't put her wand away and the old couple didn't ask her to.

"Did you come across a Dean Wilkinson during your research, Miss Granger?"

"I did" Hermione was grinding her teeth, he could hear it in the way she enunciated each word. Somehow he loved her more for it.

"He used to be a member of our Clan. He went rogue before anyone could stop him and he tried telling the world that Lycanthropy isn't only a curse. It can be a gift when it's given to someone who receives it willingly." Victarion sounded like a Professor of old, wise and tired of explaining complicated things to small minds.

"Except he couldn't _prove_ it," Hermione snapped.

"Prejudice would never allow anyone to be the test subject, would it? Nor would Wilkinson have given up the location of The Clans in case the Ministry decided to exterminate us all." It was Aurelyce who spoke then, attempting to mediate between the two without raising the room temperature once again.

"I have no prejudice against werewolves! I've been fighting all my life against those very prejudices!" Hermione's temper was getting the better of her and Remus felt his insides melt with the sheer conviction of her words.

"I believe you," said Victarion, a soft smile on his chapped lips. "However, if I asked you if you were willing to try that theory out, I'm quite certain your reply would be no."

 _She can't really tell you otherwise, now can she?_ Remus thought, _even though she's reckless enough to actually do something as stupid as that to prove a point._

"I think it's barbaric that you would put someone through the pain of a transformation, with or without consent. I wouldn't wish that on my worse enemy." The wrath in her voice, the unadulterated censure of the mere suggestion of turning someone was scathing.

"Someone who chooses to take The Gift does not undergo through the pain of The Turn, Miss Granger." Their tea had gone cold by now- not that any of them had noticed- but the silence that reigned once again was almost painful.

"I'm sorry, did you just say that it's possible to be a werewolf and go through the transformation without suffering an immense amount of pain?" Incredulous, she sounded incredulous and he didn't blame her.

"It is. The sole condition being that all the steps of The Ritual are respected and the person in question undergo it willingly." Victarion seemed so calm, unfazed by their attitude. "It's a matter of choice, you see."

"As is the matter of choosing a mate." said Aurelyce.

"Wait, you're able to _choose_ your mate?" He could tell Hermione's brain was working a thousand miles an hour, but Remus couldn't look away from Victarion's eyes. He was not ready to change the subject.

"I'm afraid, Remus, that what you want is not possible. We tried for generations and we did not succeed despite our best attempts." Remus was sure his disappointment was evident, it was all he ever wanted since he was a kid, to be normal.

Hermione and Aurelyce stopped talking, both turning to listen to the conversation between the two werewolves.

"I can neither take your pain away nor take The Curse from you. In your case, it's rightly called a curse. For our people the worst possible treason is taking away consent, it was very Dark Magic the one that turned The Gift into a curse. I wish there was something I could do, but I don't know of a way that'll lessen your pain other than your mate." A stone dropped in his stomach at his words, feeling foolish for letting hope grow inside him even for a second.

"Remus." The pain in Hermione's voice made him turn to her. He couldn't stand being the reason for her pain, so he smiled.

"I'll be fine," he assured her and he was mostly sure he would be.

"In response to your question about Mates, Miss Granger, I can give you my great grandfather's diary, I hope it might help illuminate some of your doubts." Victarion stood up and grabbed from the small bookcase in the corner a red leather bound book. Handing it to her he took both her hands into his, one of them still holding her wand, and looked into her eyes.

"If you ever have doubts or questions, our door is always open when you're ready, Hermione."


	6. Choice

RL has a nasty way of interfering with my writing, and hopefully it will get better sometime in the near future. Feel free to follow me on Tumblr (same name) and message me or leave an ask.

I have yet to thank the lovely betas that make this story possible, which is a grievous transgression on my part, but one that shall be corrected swiftly:

 **Worthfull1, Disillusionist9, Ash-Castle and Chiseplushie,** you are the only reason I allow my senseless writing to see the light of day. They, on the other hand, are incredible writers and I genuinely think everyone should read their work. Thank you for your hard work and the love and support you give me every day. _**You make the dancing possible.**_

A Bigger than life thank you for all the lovely reviews and support of the readers that spend their time on my work. Your words mean more than you'll ever know.

And finally, RL seems to get in the way of everything but it could never interfere with my love for SableUnstable. This, as always, is for you.

….

 _ **As far as we have been able to ascertain**_ _ **, Mates are extremely rare, even in our community. My father spoke of the first generation of Wolves, he called them The Howlers, after which our meadow was named.**_ _ **Chester Arthur Burnett, a wizard, was given The Curse but still he believed in his humanity.**_

 _ **So did his wife.**_

 _ **A witch herself, Letheia was not ignorant to the main beliefs about werewolves. She decided to take the curse, knowing that if she could not appease it, she would then share in his sickness by his side. In sickness and health.**_

 _ **Twas the start of a new era, for they discovered that she suffered no pain during the transition; saved by her love, they believed. Letheia could accompany him during his agony and they lived long years after. Their longevity, however, was helped by something else entirely.**_

 _ **Once Letheia joined Burnett during the full moon they understood their bond had grown somehow. Thereafter they were known as the original Mates.**_

 _ **Their children were born wizards and witches, no trace of The Gift or The Curse upon them, and they all chose to follow in their mother's footsteps, knowing there was a chance they'd have The Curse instead. The more their family grew, they found that intention somehow modified the magic within the Lycan gene. Intention,**_ **with consent** _ **, being the deciding factor on which one took root within them.**_

 _ **Their progeny, however, despite having found loving husbands and wives that adopted their way of life, did not seem to share a bond like their own.**_

 _ **As generations passed, very few partners shared a bond the likes of which The Howlers shared, but those who did, passed on their hypothesis until the Ultimate Clauses were found fitting. Not all those that followed the clauses were able to form a Mate Bond, but all those who'd found their true partner fulfilled them:**_

 _ **Compatibility.**_

 _ **Conscious choice.**_

 _ **Selflessness.**_

 _ **Reciprocity.**_

 _ **Consent.**_

Hermione read again and again the words in the small notebook. The red leather felt soft and weathered pressed to her fingers and yet the letters written inside were still crisp and clear to read.

Remus had been deeply shaken by the interview. She understood that he needed time, so she hadn't bothered him for the following days.

But something was different today. Something… something was unsettling the young witch and she couldn't quite put her finger on what was causing the feeling.

 _Remus needs to_ _read_ _this_ , she thought. She was certain that the man could learn many things about his own condition from the small book. And yet, it felt like the reason was a different one entirely.

Having already had breakfast and taken a shower she was ready to start the day. Hermione knew she was an early riser by most standards, especially on a Sunday, but she couldn't fight the pressing feeling to go to Remus' cottage.

Apparition made things easier and faster, it also helped to ease the wave of unexplainable nerves that hit her just as she walked to his door. No time for second guessing.

Knock, knock, knock.

A few seconds later a well groomed Remus opened the door and gave her a dashing smile. He was so good looking when he smiled.

"Good morning, Hermione. Come in!" His voice was so warm it gave her a pleasant feeling just by hearing it. She felt such at ease in his company, she really couldn't remember why she'd been so wary about coming here in the first place.

"I'm glad you stopped by, though I am a little curious as to what made you abandon your Sunday reading for the likes of my company." Remus was still smiling, but he looked slightly tense.

Right. This was why she'd been nervous.

"Could I offer you some tea?"

"No, thank you. I just had some at my flat." Remus served himself a cup and sat on one end of the couch, signalling for her to do the same.

As she sat he merely waited for her to bring up whatever it was she wanted to discuss. Clearly, he knew her well enough to know that it wouldn't take long.

"Remus…" Her mouth was suddenly dry. "I hope I'm not overstepping here but I brought you Victarion's great grandfather's diary."

"I see. Why would that be overstepping, Hermione? We're co-workers, working on the same subject and beyond that we're friends, are we not?" He sounded a bit unsure of himself in the end, which only managed to clench her heart inside her chest.

"Of course we are! That's not- Well, to be frank, I didn't want to upset you. I know this is a delicate subject for you, Remus and I wouldn't want to do anything to upset you further." The crease between his eyebrows deepened, the one that told her he was confused.

"This isn't strictly work related. I… I bought the diary in a personal capacity." She let the words hang for a moment before adding, "I also came to tell you I'm on my way to see Victarion for a second interview."

"Do you want me to come with?" He sounded sure of himself and she didn't doubt Remus would accompany her if she should ask, but Hermione could tell he was going through an internal struggle. He had much to deal with at the moment, too much to force him to face even more information.

"No, I think I'll be alright." The immediate relief shown on his face was proof enough that Remus still needed time. She would give him all the space he needed.

"If you change your mind, you need only send a Patronus," and she knew he meant it. He was so incredibly selfless it made her heart ache. Remus did not deserve the storm that had befallen his life.

…

A week had gone by and Remus had yet to talk to Hermione. He couldn't bring himself to explain to the young witch all that had transpired since their first visit to Ireland. All that information was hard to digest and there was still a diary full of it waiting to be read in his nightstand.

Upon learning that he could choose his own mate he was flooded with relief. There was no need to burden Hermione with his feelings and he could even find someone else the wolf found compatible if he so desired.

However, the thought alone seemed to sicken his inner wolf. As the days went by Hermione kept popping into his head at any given moment for no apparent reason.

Self-hatred is a powerful thing. Three days later he felt almost as if he were experiencing the effects of the moon despite the fact that it was two weeks away and he should be feeling his best. The repulsion at his own feelings for Hermione was making him sick somehow.

Was it possible that he had chosen Hermione as his mate without realising?

 _No. No, I have to believe I would have stopped myself. I have to. Am I truly that much of a monster?_ he thought to himself.

And then an image came to his mind. One that he hadn't been able to remember until that very moment.

It was the image of a girl.

A girl with sparkling eyes and impossible hair that had made him feel _alive_. She had made him feel like a good life was somehow possible, even for him.

That face and those eyes, _that hair_ , could only belong to Hermione Granger.

A thirteen-year-old Hermione Granger.

Before any self-deprecatory thought could fully form in his mind, his own part in that memory became apparent. This had happened decades ago, during his third year. A girl at Hogwarts he only saw once, even though he looked for her for the rest of his years at the magical school. His friends told him he was crazy, that it had probably been a dream, but the scent of the girl had never left him… A scent he now realised was the same as Hermione's.

Parchment, chocolate and ink.

 _How?_ Was the only question plaguing his mind.

And the answer presented itself in the form of a glinting golden trinket he knew she had carried along with her during that year.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_ , was all that played on repeat inside his head.

He immediately raced to his bedroom to find whatever information there was on Mates. What little content he found was vague and ambiguous at most. He had to talk to Victarion.

He had shown up without notice but the werewolf couple seemed to be waiting for him.

"Hermione was here the other day, told us she left the diary with you. We figured you'd come by eventually," was all Victarion said before letting him in.

"I don't know what to make of all this," Remus confessed.

"I must admit, I find your circumstances… quite unique," replied Victarion.

The older werewolf led him in, finding Aurelyce reading placidly on the sofa with her legs tucked in beneath her. She looked the picture of young vitality, all but for the decades betrayed by her wrinkled skin. Remus couldn't help but imagine a similarly aged Hermione in that same pose, filled with the same vivaciousness she possessed at present.

"Do you have the diary with you?" asked Victarion.

"I do," Remus said as he put the small leather book over the coffee table. "I'm afraid I've only read one excerpt and upon reading, I found myself more confused than I was before," he confessed.

"The clauses seem to be very generic. They're non-specific and leave much room for speculation." Remus continued, hoping Victarion would take the hint and explain further without having to explain outright the reason for his interest.

"Can you remember the clauses?" Victarion asked.

"As far as I understood, the list states Compatibility, Conscious choice, Selflessness, Reciprocity and Consent," Remus replied.

"Indeed."

"But what does that mean? That can mean any number of things." Remus asked. He was starting to get frustrated, he needed answers. He'd apparently condemned himself at age thirteen and now found himself with a mate almost twenty years his junior.

"Let's start from the beginning, shall we?" Victarion said calmly. "Compatibility. That's simple enough to understand in a basic way, is it not? The wolf recognises potential partners all the time, people that have sympathetic magic, people that upon speaking find themselves drawn to each other."

"There are a number of ways we can be compatible," intervened Aurelyce, she had closed the book she'd been reading, her full attention on Remus, "but when it comes to werewolves, the wolf can almost… see beyond the now and towards the future. The wolf can recognise the people that are compatible in personality, even in the way those personalities will develop, it's… it's very complex magic."

 _No kidding_ , he thought when he heard the phrase 'see beyond the future'.

"The curse is very old magic. There's a reason Centaurs look to the sky for answers regarding the future. The planets, the stars and our friend the moon have much to say." said Victarion.

"While the lycanthrope gene can be a curse, it has evolved through the centuries like anything else in nature. As such, survival is most important. Werewolves live longer with a mate, and so the wolf is constantly searching for possible partners. The wolf recognises the potential within every human or werewolf it encounters during its lifetime." Aurelyce explained.

"And how does-" he started but Victarion interrupted.

"One has to make a conscious choice. Second clause. Now, we grew up in a clan that understood Lycanthropy very well, but most werewolves don't have that luxury. Most werewolves that develop uneducated about their own condition end up choosing a mate without realising that's what they're doing. It can end in disaster." The sadness in his voice was so deep it shook Remus to the core.

A stone dropped in his stomach at the revelation. Of course, Victarion couldn't know that apparently, _he_ was one such case, but the unease in his chest kept growing like a balloon, the pressure almost asphyxiating.

"That means that even a werewolf can make a wrong choice about their mate, just like any human?" Remus asked.

"Indeed. The only difference is that once a werewolf has made it's conscious choice, he or she can never hope to mate fully with anyone else. They could be intimate with other partners and even love them, but the true mating bond can never be formed with someone else," said Victarion.

The severity of such a choice had to weigh down a person. His unease grew and he may have stopped breathing for a beat or two.

"Even in The Howling, it was a rare thing to find true mates. We believe we were the last before it was all lost. You see, many adolescents or even children made the Conscious choice without really understanding what it meant. They lived happy, fulfilled lives but they could never form a bond like the one that Victarion and I share," said Aurelyce.

"I see." It was a depressing thought. Knowing that something greater was possible and having to spend the rest of your life simply content, because you made the wrong decision when you were too young to know better.

"Then, of course, comes the tricky part," said Aurelyce.

"Selflessness?" Remus asked.

"Say you choose a mate," there was a soft smile on her face, one that spoke of mischief and Remus thought the older couple knew more than they were letting on, "that choice can only be categorised as yours. Strictly speaking, your mate has nothing to do with that choice, you can make it unilaterally, you don't need their consent to make The Choice."

"I'm sorry, wouldn't that pertain the Reciprocity, clause?" Remus interrupted.

"Not quite yet. It is true a mate bond can only be formed if those feelings go both ways, but the Selflessness clause precedes the need for reciprocity. If your chosen mate doesn't share your romantic feelings then the wolf will never allow your affection to grow further than what your mate is feeling towards you." The female werewolf explained.

"So, if my chosen mate doesn't feel the same way, I'll never be able to… what, exactly?" This was confusing. There were too many conditions and at the same time there weren't enough to determine a true pattern.

"Selflessness, in this instance, means to put the other first despite your own feelings. You'll forever want to be with your chosen mate to some degree, but the wolf will never allow those affections to grow into something that might harm them. Making The Choice doesn't equate _love_." Victarion said in a calm voice.

"So this clause is about being unable to harm the other person. Physically, or psychologically?" Remus asked. The distinction was very important.

"Both." Victarion was sipping on his tea, a thoughtful expression on his face. "From that point on, the wolf or the man, will be unable to harm their chosen mate. Be it by doing or saying something with the intention of causing their mate harm."

"So if the partner doesn't share their feelings…"

"Then the wolf will almost mute the feelings of his human, in the hopes that it will allow him to build another kind of relationship with their mate, to keep close to them. It will never be completely gone and they'll refrain from removing themselves from their company, but the nature of the feelings changes forever," said Aurelyce.

Remus didn't realise he'd fallen silent for a long time, trying to figure out what it all meant.

"I presume you've discovered Miss Granger is your mate." Victarion interrupted his inner musings.

His whole body reacted upon hearing the words uttered outside his head. He felt his heart stop in his chest, his eyes widening to the size of saucers, probably making a very funny picture. How to startle a newly self-aware werewolf 101. He had yet to tell a soul about his feeling about Hermione, let alone about the discovery he'd made that very morning. How could the old couple know?

"We've been around enough werewolves during our lifetime to know the difference. I confirmed it by telling you truthfully that she had nothing to fear in this house and all your rage and anxiety left your body instantly." Victarion said, answering his unspoken question.

"So you've known all along? How were you not disgusted?" Remus couldn't help but be awed by how different these werewolves were compared to the ones he had met during his whole life. They challenged every single belief he had ever held as true about his own kind.

"I've never met a single werewolf who could forgo the clauses once he's chosen a mate. The first clause, however, seems to apply to all of us. You wouldn't have been able to choose Hermione as your mate if it had been an obsession or if you had meant any harm to her… at _any point_ during your acquaintance," said Victarion in a knowing voice.

The relief he felt was so immense he could barely stay upright. He felt boneless, light as a feather and he scarcely noted that he had begun telling them the whole story until he was halfway through. He told them about the girl he'd met at Hogwarts, he told them about his student, he told them about his friend and his co-worker and now...

What now?

"The reason you didn't have romantic feelings towards her during all those years was because it represented both physical and psychological harm to her. Your choice manifested through protectiveness, most likely, at the time," said Aurelyce after he was done.

"How would you say you feel about her now?" intervened Victarion.

"I… that's a loaded question," Remus laughed nervously. There hadn't been much time to do a clinical examination of his feelings for Hermione, everything had happened so fast for him.

"I hadn't really considered it before," he said as he struggled to verbalise a coherent answer. Denial can blind even the most self-aware to the obvious.

Remus paused in an attempt to gather his thoughts. He was no longer trying to answer the question for Victarion's sake but rather for himself.

"I think I've had feelings for her for a long time now, but just recently they've become so strong that I could no longer ignore them." It was a simple enough answer, one that carried much meaning to him, but he supposed it sounded dull to a romantic listener.

"Are you going to discuss this with her anytime soon?" It should have felt like an invasive question, but after sharing so much of himself with the couple, they almost felt familiar.

"I couldn't possibly ruin Hermione's life by pursuing her romantically," Remus replied sadly. She was his _chosen mate_ , he was literally bound by his choice to keep from harming her.

"I think you haven't been listening properly, Remus," there was laughter mixed up with the words as Aurelyce spoke them, which irritated him a little. "The Selflessness clause is followed by the Reciprocity clause for a reason."

"The choice by itself doesn't mean love, Remus. If you are having feelings for her it's because the wolf is allowing you to mirror Hermione's feeling for you!" She was laughing heartily now, a sound full of mirth and actual excitement. She was excited for him.

And suddenly so was _he_. Something warm was growing in his stomach, his body temperature seemed to rise and the whole of his body felt like it was going to explode with jubilation.

 _Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?_ He questioned himself. Even through the palpable elation he was experiencing, he couldn't quite believe this was possible.

Maybe, just maybe he could be happy.

"If- If I do, decide to speak to her and, by some miracle, she can grow to love me…" his voice cracked at that, trying to force the words out of his mouth, even if he couldn't quite believe such a scenario was possible. He needed to know.

"When the Reciprocity clause if fulfilled then the only thing remaining would be for both of you to agree to the bond. There's no ceremony involved, it only takes both parties to agree to be bonded for the bond to solidify," Victarion interrupted knowing what Remus was asking but couldn't say out loud.

Everything was a blur after that. He vaguely remembered thanking them for their help and leaving. Remus had no memory of getting home or lying in his bed until he'd spent at least a full hour staring at the ceiling.

He was going to tell her. It was time.

If he believed in the clauses, then… then she cared for him, too. If he could just build upon that, then maybe… maybe Hermione could grow to love him.

But should she? Should a young woman tie herself to an old, poor werewolf with no prospects?

But that was no longer true, was it? Hermione herself had seen to that. She had changed his entire life and given him everything he'd always thought he couldn't have.

Perhaps… including love.

Intention. Choice. Consent.

That's what Victarion had said.

If he'd had a choice then so should _she_. Remus couldn't take that away from her after all Hermione had given him. Reciprocity. He had to give her a choice

….

After showering and contemplating if he should eat and decided he wouldn't be able to keep anything down because of the nerves, he headed for Hermione's flat.

Remus stood outside her door for some time, preparing himself for whatever was to come. He contemplated fleeing and stopped himself several times. If he decided not to pursue her, he'd be hurting Hermione by ignoring her feeling for him, and that, Remus wouldn't do.

 _Not that I could even if I tried. Who ever thought clauses to be nifty_ , he thought to himself before rapping on the door.

When she opened it something came over Remus that almost knocked the air out of his lungs. It was a kind of certainty he'd only known when he found out James, Sirius and Peter had become Animagi. Eyes settling upon her face, Remus knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he'd do anything for that woman. Anything at all.

"Remus! I wasn't expecting you, it's _so_ good to see you," she said.

Then he found his arms full of Hermione and he wouldn't let go. She didn't seem particularly pressed to leave his arms either, but something about that embrace felt like a milestone.

Now on to the next one.

"I was hoping I could talk to you about something," he murmured into her hair. Remus knew she could hear him pressed so close to him, her ear below his mouth. "I also wanted to apologise for the disappearing act. It's been… complicated to sort through my emotions. I didn't want you to fall victim to one of my moods."

"That wasn't necessary at all," her voice was muffled and came from somewhere in the middle of his chest, the vibrations making his whole body susceptible to any and all of her movements. "But I understand you needed your space. If it took me a while to wrap my head around all that information. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you."

She was so compassionate, her empathy unparalleled to anyone he had ever known. Perhaps only Lily could come close to it.

"Can I come in?" he asked despite the fact that he made no move to let her go or actually come into her flat.

That did the trick and she jumped out of his arms embarrassed, sporting a lovely pink on both cheeks.

"Oh, Merlin! Of course, I'm so sorry, Remus!" she said as she led him in. "It must be my lack of exposure to you, I suppose I just needed my dose."

Remus could tell it was hard for her to be so forward but she looked pleased with herself at managing to make a flirty comeback from a potentially embarrassing situation.

"I'll make sure to never leave you wanting, from now on." Remus had never really turned on the charm the way Sirius or James did, it had always been dangerous. However, you didn't grow up a Marauder without a couple of tricks to your name and now that he'd decided to go for her… well, he was fairly certain Hermione would grow accustomed to blushing pretty soon.

As if on cue Hermione blushed an impressive Weasley red at the double meaning of his words and busied herself with making tea for the both of them.

She managed to cough awkwardly and replied a faint: "Good to know."

She seemed to have forgotten about her discomfort by the time tea and biscuits were being drunk and eaten respectively. A comfortable silence fell upon them and he would be forever amazed at how he could enjoy her company by simply sitting next to her.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to delay the inevitable.

"Hermione, I wanted to discuss something rather important with you. Something very serious, I suppose." He didn't want to scare her, but he needed Hermione to know that he was not playing with her.

"You know you can always tell me anything, Remus," she replied, her expression was very intense. Determined. Whatever she speculated he was going to say she had already decided he could count on her.

 _If I didn't know before, I now know I'm lost_ , he thought.

"I- "

A frantic knocking on the door interrupted his sentence and both of them were standing in an instant, wands drawn. Remus hid behind the door to cover for her if needed and signalled her to open when the agitated knocking started again.

When she opened the door he could hear a collision of bodies and right as he was about to stun the intruder he heard Hermione speak.

"Fred?"

"Hermione." He sounded out of breath and there was a desperation in his voice that was haunting.

He almost revealed his presence, worried something had happened to one of the Weasleys.

Almost.

"Fred, what- "

"I promised. I'm here to keep my promise!" Fred sounded like a madman, somewhat deranged but Remus knew he wouldn't hurt Hermione.

"What promise, Fred? What are you talking about? Talk to me!" She was panicking now, confused, she didn't understand what was happening.

But Remus did.

"I promised nothing would keep us apart after the war. I promised we wouldn't keep it a secret. I promised I'd take you to every bookstore in all England while I held your hand, to show anyone who might look at you from afar that you are taken. I promised I would never leave you and I fucking did. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry!" The redhead was openly sobbing now, and Remus could hear Hermione sniffling as well.

She was trying to calm him down, whispering it was okay, that he'd done nothing wrong, but he wasn't having any of it.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I remember now, I remember." Remus heard the sound of two bodies hitting the floor from behind the door, and almost moved to help before he stopped himself.

"I remember I love you more than life itself and I can't believe I'd somehow forgotten."

After that, Remus could hear no more.

The CRACK of Apparition was anything but subtle, but he was certain neither Hermione nor Fred heard him leave.


	7. Confusion

**AN: I've been away for some time, I know. I'm still recovering from some things that happened in the past few months. I promise you all that I haven't lost interest, I'm still around, I haven't abandoned this or any other story. I might expand on this on a Tumblr post later, but for your patience, your support and your interest in my story, I shall be forever thankful.**

 **To my lovely betas, who continue to astound me and make my silly lines readable, you** _ **make the dancing possible**_ **.**

 **As always, Sable, my dearest darling, this is for you.**

…

Her brain had yet to fully process the night's events. Fred remembered.

He remembered holding her while she cried when Harry and Ron wouldn't talk to her, he remembered their first kiss in the library. He remembered researching with her in the library trying to find a way to keep Harry alive in fourth year, he remembered their letters after he left school during fifth year. He remembered sending encrypted messages to her through the Wireless, he remembered their last kiss before that wall took it all away.

He remembered her. He remembered their love.

It took about an hour for Hermione to realise Remus was gone. Everything had been so emotional she couldn't quite name her feelings anymore. She'd have to send him a letter and apologise, but whatever he wanted to talk about could wait.

Fred was sleeping on her couch still, they talked until early morning and she called in sick for work.

He hadn't been able to stop crying for a good fifteen minutes, until finally he was able to breathe in properly again. His eyes were red and his face a swollen mess but he looked full of life, full of hope.

Hermione had told him what it was like, finding him after the battle was over, the coma and when he finally woke up, having to endure his void stare. Empty of recognition, empty of love. He apologised over and over, so much so he sounded like a broken record, one that was hurting her more than soothing her wounds.

" _Stop. You didn't choose for any of this to happen and I understand that." Hermione was crying too by now._

" _I can't help it, love. I remember the past few years, but these emotions, all that I'm feeling right now, what I felt then… it's as if no time has passed." Fred was more composed than before, but his voice kept cracking every two sentences._

" _But it has, Fred. It has," Hermione replied sadly. "I've changed. I'm not the same person you knew. Losing you changed me."_

" _I don't care. I love you, I know who you are, Hermione. You couldn't have changed the most basic parts of your nature. Whoever you are now, I'll learn to love it. I know it." Fred sounded so sure, so certain. She wished she could share that certainty._

" _You remember when you told me about feeling invisible, worthless? That you went looking for the Basilisk because you felt it would give your life meaning?" Fred asked when she remained silent._

" _Of course I do." That had been the most vulnerable Hermione had ever allowed herself to be in her entire life. She'd never really shared that with Harry or with Ron; they wouldn't have understood. While they were her best friends and they were her support, from an emotional point of view they tended to be… a tad slow. ._

" _I knew it by then, but I wouldn't dare say it. I loved you then just as I do now and ever since then, I've known that your life gives meaning to mine." Fred said in a sleepy voice._

He'd fallen asleep in her arms not long after that. She had yet to make sense of her feelings, of all that had changed in the past week. Everything seemed to be happening at the same time somehow.

Hermione couldn't count the times she had wished for this very outcome. She had wanted to be with Fred ever since he'd confessed he loved her at Bill's wedding and she had dreamed of a life next to him. The year that followed was full of trials and the one thing she'd hoped she'd never lose, was lost forever.

Or so Hermione thought.

Frankly, she wasn't sure what she wanted anymore.

Doubts kept flaring up every time she imagined continuing her relationship with Fred. So much had changed since then, _she_ had changed. The world wasn't even the same! She'd changed the law and now Remus was-

Then there was Remus.

Her second interview with Victarion and Aurelyce kept coming to the forefront of her mind. There were many questions buzzing around her head and thinking back to her visit to Ireland she could only grow more uncertain about what she wanted.

" _The diary doesn't seem to be very clear about The Clauses. They could mean anything." Hermione wasn't entirely sure what she was asking or why. There was something nagging her about the whole subject._

" _Do you have the diary with you?" asked Victarion._

" _No. No, I… I gave it to Remus so he could look it over." she responded quietly._

" _Can you remember the clauses?" he asked._

" _Yes, but they could mean close to anything without a proper context," Hermione repeated._

" _Indeed."_

" _Oh, then I guess I have no questions now!" She couldn't hide her frustration. She didn't know why she was fixating in this particular point. There was so much content in the diary on the topic of werewolves that she could come and interview Victarion every day for a year and still she'd have to come back to clarify some points. Why focus on_ this _?_

 _Victarion laughed softly and simply smiled at her._

" _How about you ask questions and we'll answer as best we can," he said simply._

" _Alright, how does a werewolf choose a Mate?" asked Hermione._

" _The wolf can perceive potential in a way that most magical animals can't, it sees beyond the future in a way. In each person they encounter through their lives, they recognise mutually beneficial growth in a way that's catered specifically for those involved," responded Aurelyce._

" _Is that even possible? Interests change and develop, just as personalities do. Circumstances change people. How can the wolf possibly contemplate variables that haven't even happened?" Hermione was confused and her ears were buzzing. Why was this so important?_

" _You're a Muggleborn, correct?" The question seemed completely out of place and instinctively her spine straightened and she could feel rage flow through her body._

" _I am." She replied tartly. The years had passed and still she grew defensive when her heritage was brought up._

" _And still, years after being a part of our world and coming from something so different, you ask me how magic is possible." Hermione could feel her face heating up. She was prepared for an insult to her culture, not her intelligence. True enough, magic while it had its inner logic, didn't really respond to the hows or whys she was accustomed to._

" _The answer is_ magic _, Miss Granger. Magic and survival is most important. The wolf is constantly searching for possible partners because he can survive longer with a mate. They are able to project those changes that are to come in order to foresee the best possible match." Victarion explained._

Why fixate on that excerpt of the diary? Why use her precious interview time on _that_ point even above what they called The Gift? That line of questioning was more related to her work and her research, so why focus on _that_?

Fred let out a grunt of sorts, alerting Hermione to the fact that he'd woken up.

"Good morning, feeling up to some scrambled eggs and some sausage?" Hermione asked approaching the couch.

"I could get used to hearing your voice first thing in the morning." Fred's voice was pure gravel and it reminded her how long it had been since she'd been intimate with any man. Despite the physical reaction to the baritone, Hermione felt her heart drop from her chest and into her stomach at his words.

"Let's get some food into you, you never could form a proper thought without getting some food into your system," she said, trying to divert from the subject.

Maybe a year ago she would have died of happiness and thanked all existing deities for getting her love back.

But was Fred still her love?

She got lost in her thoughts as she prepared the food, her mind drifting once again to Ireland.

" _Alright. So, the wolf_ knows _when someone is compatible," she repeated dumbly. It was frustrating, being the slow person in the room._

" _Almost everyone is compatible in some way or another, Hermione. The wolf is able to see the best possible match and one can encounter several possible mates during our lifetime," said_ _Aurelyce, intervening for the first time._

" _So it's a myth, then. Werewolves don't really have one true mate." Hermione couldn't really identify the feeling that came over her, but it felt eerily like hope._

" _Not until they choose one, no." the older werewolf responded._

 _This was the opposite of all that could be found on the mating of werewolves to this date. Popular culture sold Werewolf mating habits as a primal unavoidable pull that bordered on soulmates craving the other beyond sanity. It was either portrayed rather… Crudely, or like a cheap romance novel._

" _True mates were rare even within our educated community. It's was common for younglings to make The Choice without putting real thought into it. That doesn't mean they would be unhappy, but the true Mate bond could never be formed after that." Said_ _Aurelyce._

 _She supposed that was the way a lot of people felt about their life, but to know for_ certain… _She wasn't sure how to feel about that._

" _Those who don't share a bond like ours don't have to be pitied, Hermione."_ _Aurelyce chastised. "Different doesn't mean less."_

" _We know wizards that are as happy as we are. People are just as capable at finding something unique and perfect for them as we are, and they do it without the help of the wolf. Some might say_ that _is even more beautiful," said Victarion with a smile._

" _True enough." Hermione was smiling back now, feeling somewhat better._

Fred brought her out of her reverie by putting a hand on her shoulder, making her jump and accidentally burn herself with the pan.

"Ow, shit!" she exclaimed, holding her hand next to her chest and searching for some salve in her medikit cabinet.

"Wicked!"

"What?" Hermione asked annoyed. "Is my burn amusing to you?"

"Much must have changed, indeed. I've just witnessed first hand the one and only Hermione Granger swearing her little heart out!" he was brimming with excitement which only served to grow her indignation."... and we weren't even near a bedroom."

"Fred!"

"I was trying to get your attention since talking right at you didn't seem to be doing the trick," he said with an amused smile.

"I'm sorry, I have a lot on my mind," she said distractedly.

"I can see that," he said with a smile "Where were you? I was talking to you and it was like I wasn't even here."

Something sad settled in her chest.

"And you're avoiding me," he said, his tone was light, but she knew the concern must be weighing on him for it to even mention it.

"What? No, why would you say that?" she asked as she reached for the plates and put them on the table before turning back to the stove. She was stalling, she knew it, but she couldn't really help herself.

"Are you expecting anyone else for breakfast?"

"No, why?"

"While I have a big appetite, I'd say you're making enough food for a small army," he said.

Looking down she could see Fred was telling the truth. There were at least 7 scrambled eggs in one pan, then two other pans with 4 sausages each and a fourth pan with three tomatoes, slowly baking in the fat of the bacon that was being cooking alongside it.

He had been right, without thinking about it Hermione had cooked up a storm in her reverie in order to avoid the redhead that was patiently waiting for her on the table.

"You should be used to this, Molly usually cooks for twenty five for every meal when there's no more than 10 at a time at The Burrow."

"You haven't looked at me in the eye since I woke up," he said abruptly. Once again, he was telling the truth. She hadn't meant to be impolite, in fact, Hermione seemed to be moving by inertia, not truly conscious of what she was actually doing.

Looking up from his empty plate, to his chin, then his lips and his nose and finally those blue eyes, Hermione felt her chest contract in pain.

"Who is he?" he asked softly.

"I have no idea what you mean," that set her in motion once again. The sausages were starting to overcook and the eggs were drying up.

Grabbing the plates she served a rather large portion for him and a distinctly smaller one for herself.

"Feeling hungry, are you? With a portion like that you would have stolen ickle Ronniekins heart in no time," he said, pointing at the plate brimming with food. He was letting her get away with such a silly answer to a very clear question.

She laughed, despite herself, this was one of the reasons she loved Fred.

She'd loved Fred.

Did she _still_ love Fred?

She sat down and started nibbling on her food quietly, eyes strictly on her eggs.

" _Say, Remus had chosen you as his mate. That only represents his choice, his validation of the wolf's perception. After the choice is made, however, if you don't share his feelings, the wolf will never allow his feeling to grow further than your own." The female werewolf explained._

 _Something hot ran through her at the thought of Remus choosing her as his mate. Was that it? Did she have feelings for Remus?_

 _Is this why I haven't been able to stop thinking about this?_ _she wondered._

" _So, if I don't feel the same way, he'll have a reflection of my feelings for him?" This was confusing at best._

" _If he'd chosen you as his Mate you'll always be the dream. He'll know that he wants you, but the wolf will never allow those feelings to grow into something that might harm you. Selflessness, as in he will always put you before himself. He would never be able to harm you physically, or psychologically on purpose, and pursuing you without your interest would break that clause."_

 _Hermione was still struggling to understand. The Clauses didn't seem to make sense in the way that she was used to when it came to magical creatures. It was the extreme opposite to everything she'd thought about Werewolves, not that there was any real information to be found on the subject. So why was this so hard to comprehend?_

 _They don't seem to make sense because you're trying to force them to fit a situation where they're not fulfilled. Remus hasn't chosen you as his mate! He probably chose one years ago and it didn't work out, she reasoned._

" _Following your hypothetical, I mean, if a werewolf chose me as their Mate, would I… would I have to take The Gift to help ease the moon for him?" Hermione asked_ _hesitantly._

" _No, Hermione. If Remus or any other werewolf chose you as their Mate and you accepted The Bond, there would be no need. The Wolf will forever recognise and sense that he's not alone in the world. The moon, will not ache his heart for you will be his relief."_

" _But Letheia-"_

" _You are not Letheia, nor do you need to be. I, too, chose to take The Gift for reasons I could not begin to explain, but my mate was at peace with that decision and in the end, that's what allowed me to do so with a steady mind and an open heart." said Aurelyse._

" _What makes true Mates is not that they are both with either Curse or Gift, it's their conscious and willing choice to be with one another," finished Victarion._

" _That… that is beautiful," was the only thing Hermione managed to say._

"Hermione…"

Fred was looking at her, eyes full of worry. It didn't seem like he had contemplated the possibility of her turning him down and the thought only strengthened the clenching in her chest.

And why would he contemplate such a scenario? She'd promised him she would love him, always.

Always.

And she did… she would always love Fred. Nothing could erase her time with him, not even magic apparently.

Resolute, she took a breath.

"Fred—"


	8. Suitor

**AN: AN: Life hasn't been easy last year or so. This is a general note for all stories, old and new. I'll be posting whatever's on my drive the next couple of weeks, in the hopes to make up for everything that is dark in my life and also hoping someone somewhere might enjoy it. I thank you all for being so patient with my other stories, I'll get to them eventually, I promise.**

 **Until then, I'll simply say THANK YOU for sticking with me; to the new readers, welcome and thank you for reading; to the favourites and follows, I'm very happy you're interested in reading more and that you like what you read; to the reviewers, you'll never know what your words mean, a little encouragement goes a long way. To my lovely Betas Worthfull1, Disillusionist9, Ash-Castle and Chiseplushie who make my ramblings make sense, I thank and love you all.**

 **As always, you can find me on Tumblr by the same handle.**

 **Love you all**

 **SW**

 _ **Sable, this is for you.**_

 _ **...**_

She didn't come to work the next day, which wasn't really surprising. While Hermione Granger had never taken a day off since Remus had started working with her, he knew she was likely to give the situation it's due attention. She would not neglect a friend, let alone the love of her life, for the sake of work.

Tuesday and Wednesday he didn't expect.

On Thursday Remus found out Hermione had taken her vacation weeks for the first time since she started working for the Ministry.

The outcome was clear.

It was hard going to work and not be painfully reminded of the fact that she wasn't there, that she wanted someone else. She never even had the chance to learn about his feelings.

Hermione had made her choice and Remus would never be able to tell her now, for whatever he said would bring her pain. Be it because she didn't want to hurt him or because she didn't want to hurt Fred. Nothing good could come out of his confession anymore, so he would remain quiet.

He would remain her friend and, now more than ever, he understood what Victarion had said. He would do or _not do_ whatever it took to remain close to her, to remain in her life.

Remus would be lying if he said he didn't feel choked by the emotions he _knew_ were reciprocated. He was still able to feel them which could only mean they were somewhere inside her too. He understood that despite her choice she wouldn't be able to get rid of the feelings she had for him in a week, and understanding that he would mirror those feelings for as long as she felt them while she was with Fred… was a new kind of torture.

 _You will recover from this as long as she remains in your life_ , he told himself. _You can survive this._

He hoped he was right.

…

It felt like a lifetime.

Going to work, walking by her empty desk, having lunch by himself. It was too much. Remus had been considering taking time off too, maybe it would do some good. He still carried with him his feelings for her and they became heavier every day.

Guilty.

Remus felt guilty over wanting to be with her, the hope that those feelings would become known to her and she would leave Fred to be with him. What kind of man had he become?

But then the craving would come to the forefront of his mind and the remorse for wishing such things would be forgotten.

How long had it been since he had laid eyes on her? It was Monday again and Hermione had been on vacation for two weeks and a day.

He left his office in search of some tea, stress getting the better of him despite the early hour, passing by the open door of her empty office, the smell of parchment, chocolate and ink wafting over him every time. His heart ached for her and he felt his shoulders slump like a moping puppy… or wolf.

 _A full grown werewolf… moping. No wonder she went for the young, talented and rich wonder_ , Remus thought.

He managed to get a pot and some water boiling with a heating charm when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Mind pouring two of those?"

Not any hand, at that. _Her_ hand.

Remus couldn't help himself as he put down the pot and spun around at lightning speed and enveloped her in his arms. He took a deep breath when his nose was safely burrowed in her hair, hoping to Merlin the witch wouldn't find his behaviour out of the ordinary.

The muscles of his back relaxed, the tension that had been growing between his shoulders vanished and he felt a strange sensation of invigoration simply by drinking in her scent and having her so close to him.

"You're back," was all he managed to say.

"I am."

She somehow sunk deeper into his arms and the wolf within him cried of happiness. He'd take anything he could get; there was no denying that holding this witch in his arms was closer to any version of heaven he could imagine.

Bliss. That was the word.

He secretly hoped she'd never outgrow her feelings for him; he wished for it to feel like this every time he held her, even if it was with the title of friend.

That was until he felt a different kind of stirring, and he went rigid. By what he could only assume was an accident, Hermione had rubbed her nose just below his jaw. Immediately his whole body caught on fire, her nose having left a path of lava in its wake. The fever that overcame him was so sudden he felt himself become light headed and he tried not to move a single inch in any direction. The witch didn't seem to notice and continued to hold him.

 _Fuck, what the-_ he thought, but his thoughts were interrupted by a deep sigh that came from Hermione. She'd taken a deep breath, pressing her chest tighter to his for a moment and then the rush of air leaving her lungs tickled his neck, making the hairs there stand on end.

Suddenly he was hyper aware of every inch of her body that was touching his. Her hands were around his neck, both open, holding the back of his head and the nape of his neck respectively; her fingers were drifting less than half an inch from their position but moving slightly with her every breath. Her torso was arched backwards from the difference in height, moving with her slow breathing, pressing her closer to him at a varying interval of two heartbeats. Her thighs were also touching his and her arms were wrapped around his shoulders tightly like Devil's Snare.

Merlin help him if she wasn't a devilish temptation in that moment.

Remus had to fight the urge to moan when the hand a the back of his head started playing with his hair. He wasn't entirely sure that Hermione was doing it consciously, he had lost track of how long they'd been in that position.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they jumped apart, embarrassed. A co-worker or another wanted to get to get a cup tea and made his way between them to reach the cupboard only to leave in a rush.

The awkwardness that ensued was particularly uncomfortable for Remus. He had allowed himself to grow distracted to the point of carelessness. Giving her the wrong impression would only hurt Hermione in the long run, there was no point in letting her know he reciprocated her feeling after she'd chosen Fred. Knowing her she'd feel guilty till Remus found someone else… except there was no one else for him.

"It's been a while, how was your trip?" he found himself asking.

 _Break the ice, act normal. Be light and funny, allow her an out to whatever the fuck that was and never allow yourself to get lost in the moment like that again,_ he told himself. _I have to be careful if I want to remain in her life_ , he reasoned.

But Hermione was giving him a look that only made his temperature rise. His breathing hitched and he had to fight the impulse to grab her right then and there and do all the things her eyes seemed to be suggesting.

 _Imploring?_ He thought.

Fuck, Merlin himself wouldn't have been able to resist a look like that.

 _She's with Fred now. Remember she's with Fred. Whatever she might be feeling now, she has made your choice_ , he told himself.

In the end, she would outgrow whatever crush she had right now and she would be happy. That's what he wanted, wasn't it? For her to be happy.

 _Even if it's with Fred_ , he thought sullenly.

The sombre thoughts did very little to lighten the tension in the room. Her eyes were still smouldering and Remus could feel his pulse accelerating by the second. Hermione had yet to say another word, his question about her break forgotten.

He allowed himself a moment to take her in. Her eyes were melted chocolate, at present. He knew they took on an entirely different tone when they were directly under sunlight. The tip of her nose had a tiny freckle, just on the right side. The werewolf purposefully avoided her lips, fearing it might be too great a temptation so he continued his examination jumping to her soft jawline, only to follow the lines of her neck to her collarbone.

Anything lower than that was also dangerous territory. Remus could feel the wolf, demanding to taste the line he had just drawn with his eyes.

It was particularly frustrating. Knowing that she wanted him the same way, or else he would have no such impulses. If the clauses were true, then Hermione Granger wanted him as bad as he wanted her.

 _She's with another man, get a grip, old man_ , he reminded himself.

She could be attracted to him and still be unavailable.

As he was having that thought, the same co-worker, Patrick, he recognised now, barged in once more. The poor man hadn't been expecting to find them in the exact same position he had left them so he simply did a 180 and went back where he came from.

"It's good to see you, Remus," was all she said. The soft smile on her face almost broke his heart. An apologetic smile.

Off she went to her office, leaving Remus bereft and yet with the beginnings of an erection.

…

The following weeks were a trial.

Remus hadn't been expecting the sexual tension to rise to new heights.

Suddenly, Hermione was all curves. He was sure Hermione wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary. He recognised the sweaters and her pristine clothes from years before. And yet it felt as though he could somehow see more skin when she approached him.

The lines of her arms, the fall of cleavage, the back of her slender neck. Even the appearance of a naked ankle could get him to drop a parchment in the middle of a meeting.

She didn't know it, but the woman was slowing killing him.

That wasn't the only thing, no. Now that she was in a stable relationship, she seemed to be comfortable with engaging in some mild flirting.

They had always shared a comfortable relationship, banter a second language for them. Perhaps it was because now he was aware of his attraction to her, perhaps it was because his feelings told him exactly how _she_ was feeling, perhaps it was that his skin seemed to be oversensitive to hers somehow. Whatever it was, it was making his life… harder.

" _Granger, the Centaurs are requesting a meeting with you this week," said Garth, their boss, as he passed her office. "It might get rough, though, Bernard buggered things up last time he went down there."_

" _Oh, I can do rough," she said and threw a wink in Remus's direction._

But Garth was already halfway to his office and didn't hear her.

" _I'm feeling like going down, maybe get a bite in, if you'd like to join me," Remus asked her as he walked by her office on his way to the door._

" _If you're talking about lunch, I'll have to decline. If it's an invitation of a different nature, I get off at six." She didn't even look away from the documents in her hands, her face impassive as if she'd simply spoken of the weather._

He had almost swallowed his tongue with that one.

And the touching. _The touching._ It was as though the universe was set on slow torture mode. Electric shocks ran through him every single time she laid a hand on his arms. _Every time._

Her touch, at the moment, could only be compared to that of a paper cut. You don't notice how many times the tip of your finger comes into contact with whatever random things happen to be in the world, until you have a paper cut. Suddenly, _everything_ just happens to ram into that little annoying cut as if it were the single purpose of existence of every other object.

It was maddening!

And the smell of her skin, sweet Merlin. The smell of her skin could almost make him cry. His senses went into overdrive, and even a breeze dosed with the scent could make the hairs on his neck stand on end. Everything about Hermione Granger set him on edge.

He was afraid he would break soon.

"Remus, do you have the documents on the Italian Goblin family that are applying for asylum? I can't find them anywhere!"

"I think I have a copy somewhere around here," he said as he stood up.

There was a pile behind his desk, full of the files that had come in during the last month. The werewolf was somewhat embarrassed about having her witness his unorthodox system, but he rarely lost anything. If nothing else he could always say it was a proven system.

Bending down to retrieve the document in question, he almost fell over all of them when he turned around and found Hermione only a couple of inches away. There was hardly any distance between them, she didn't seem bothered or even to notice that he was, indeed, close enough to count her eyelashes.

She was on her tiptoes, looking behind him, in what looked like a poor attempt at figuring out how exactly was it that he managed to file his documents in piles and be successful.

Remus had to hold his breath, hand outstretched beside him with the offending parchment.

Suddenly, Hermione looked up, her mind catching up with her body, acknowledging the lack of distance between them.

Time seed to stop for a moment, dilated seconds passing by. The wolf was eager to have his chosen mate so close, revelling in the amber accents of her eyes, the freckles on her nose, the curves of her eyelashes. Remus's eyes travelled up and down and back again across her face. His whole body was tense with anticipation, of what, he didn't know. If he didn't know better he would say they were about to kiss.

But he _did_ know better.

She was with Fred.

He remembered to breathe and the spell was broken.

"Was this what you were looking for?" he ground out. His jaw felt as if it was about to give out from the pressure, his teeth threatening to give way.

But then, something entirely unexpected happened that threw him off. Hermione's eyes became slits and her whole body went stiff as a board.

"Yes, Remus. That's exactly it," she spat. She stomped out of his office, all speed and fury, leaving a very confused werewolf behind.

Shit.

 _She knows. Fuck, shit, fuck! She knows! he thought_.

That had to be it. Hermione was furious with him because he'd been unable to hide his attraction towards her.

Shit.

Remus _knew_ she was dating someone and he knew it was serious. What kind of an arse treats a friend like that?

He had vowed to keep his feelings hidden from her and now… now what?

Feign madness and move on.

Yes, that had to be the way to go.

But before he could implement said plan, the witch in question walked back in with the same furious energy she had left with.

"Remus Lupin!" she half screamed.

He was frozen in place, more shock than fright, even though Hermione looked a sight at that moment.

Her hair appeared to be forming a soft halo around her head, standing on end. Static had a similar effect, except Remus knew it was her magic, expressing itself given her raging emotions.

Merlin, she was gorgeous.

He knew he should be worried about what had her in that state in the first place. An angry Hermione Granger was not something to joke about, and yet… he could feel his body reacting to the witch before him. Eyes full of passion, frown and a soft snare.

He was certain whatever she asked for, he would give her, no questions asked.

"Yes?" It was hard not to sound excited. His whole body was screaming out to touch her, to kiss her, to even out that energy by swallowing it whole.

"Have you or have you not chosen a mate?" she demanded impatiently.

Ice water ran off the previews feelings only to be replaced by panic and worry. A stone dropped in the pit of his stomach. In a single second, he could see how it would all end. Hermione would hate him for her remaining years, their friends would ostracise him and he would die alone and forever craving to spend a single second in her presence.

After everything, this woman had done for him. She had made his life a livable one and here he was, tarnishing everything good she had ever thought of him. The monster, hoping to be with the kindest and fairest of them all.

Hermione seemed to be ignorant to the dark thoughts in his head and taken his silence for a negative to her question.

"You haven't. Good." She was nodding to herself in a decided manner.

Remus wanted to correct her, he really did. But even if he had tried, she would have been cut off almost immediately.

"Now, unless I am mistaken you are indeed single, yes?" she demanded almost threateningly.

The wolf in him wanted to show her exactly how available he was, very vigorously against the nearest wall. Remus managed to refrain and simply nodded.

"Alright, then." Here she appeared to lose some wind of her sails, for she hesitated if only for a moment.

"I think it's high time I let you know I am interested in you," she said in an assertive manner.

After a moment of silence, all the anger left her body in a single exhale.

"I realise that you haven't actually answered if you've chosen a mate and you might have already chosen a mate by accident or consciously at some point, but given that you are single, I figured it was time I let you that I'm interested in you, even if we can't have a true Mate Bond." Hermione said in one breath only to push on swiftly.

"So… there. I thought you should know," she said looking at him straight in the eye before turning around and leaving him alone in his office.

…

By the time Remus had recuperated from the assault-declaration, Hermione was already gone from the office. When he tried calling on her, the flat appeared to be empty.

Remus decided to go see Harry instead.

The first thing he got out of him surprised him, but after her little outburst wasn't entirely unexpected.

She wasn't seeing Fred.

She was not dating him or otherwise romantically engaged with the Weasley or anyone else for that matter.

The green eyed man told him told him the twin had disappeared for a week or so, only to resurface and spend the better part of the weekend drinking himself stupid with his other half. Fred would be alright with George by his side.

But this meant… it meant maybe there was hope.

Remus knew he felt strongly for Hermione. This could only mean that Hermione felt the same way about him or the wolf wouldn't allow him to foster those feelings. Now, having an interest in someone doesn't immediately equate to wanting a relationship with that person.

And even then, that didn't mean that she'd want to close The Bond in the future. There was still a long way to go.

Remus had a lot to think about, so off to the store he went. The supplies weren't really necessary. The werewolf still felt a little astonished every time there was food to be found in his kitchen. After the life he'd lived in the aftermath of the first war he never forgot to replenish his food supply. In fact, he almost went daily to the shop, mainly because he could afford it. He had a steady income and he had food in his house every day, for him or an unexpected visitor.

And it was all because of her. If nothing else, his thirteen-year-old self could be praised for his impeccable taste. He had chosen one incredible woman.

It only seemed fitting when the unexpected visitor was her. He found Hermione there, sitting on the porch of his small cottage, waiting for him.

"Hermione! I—" was all he managed to get out before she spoke hurriedly over him.

Springing up from the steps, she started talking immediately, "Remus, I'm _so_ sorry about my outburst. I don't know what came over me! I swear I didn't mean to.

"It was completely inappropriate of me to ask you if you'd chosen a mate, I—" the witch went suddenly quiet and looked at him timidly under her eyelashes.

"You must excuse me if it was intrusive of me to ask. But I've… well, if you haven't I was wondering…" She took a deep breath, looked him square in the eye and unwaveringly said, "I was wondering if you'd consider going out with me. If you're not otherwise engaged, I'd very much like to see if we're compatible."

Remus remained silent for a long moment but her eyes never left his.

"I also know that there's a lot to consider, but I'm very interested in you, Remus. I'm hoping your wolf would consider me at some point in the future," she continued. "If it turns out that I'm not a good enough match I'll leave you be, but I… I think we could be great together."

"I'd like to be your suitor, as it were," she said with a small laugh. Hermione took a long breath and simply waited for his response. She was blushing now, a demure smile was on her lips, eyes were alight with hope.

 _Merlin, she is beautiful_ , he thought.

 _Wait, is this really happening? Am I dreaming?_ he wondered.

What could he say to her? He couldn't lie to her, that he knew. But how could he explain their particular situation?

"Hermione, are you sure this is what you want?" He needed to be sure first, before he told her the truth. She would be crushed by the truth if she knew she was his only hope for happiness. If she was sure, he'd date her until she decided she didn't want to be with him any longer. And if by some miracle that day never came to pass, _then_ he'd tell her the whole truth, tell her that she was it and seal the bond.

"Very much so, Remus Lupin."

The smile she threw his way would become his new memory to cast a Patronus for the next ten years.


	9. Lover

**AN:  
** Life hasn't gotten any easier. I have no internet, but I promise I'm still hard at work.

Big things are coming *evil smirk*... I just need my betas to look it all over and have wifi so that I can share.

Thank you for your patience.

Favourites, Reviews, Follows, thank you so much. Special thanks to _**Kittenshift17**_ (This woman has a Charmione that keeps me awake at night, that I have yet to review properly, pending on wifi), **ameedeaSeshat** , **moreremusplease**. All comments are wonderful, I really love them all -I really fucking do-, but sometimes some reviews have impeccable timing. Your comments were life sustaining and if this whole story wasn't already dedicated to Sable, I would dedicate this chapter to you.

Also big thanks to **Worthfull1** for being my beta for this chapter. As always, all remaining mistakes are mine alone. I am a stubborn mule.

Sable, as always, _this is for you._

SW

...

Sex with Hermione Granger was unlike anything else he had ever experienced.

Everything, from the way she arched her back to the way she uttered a broken " _Remus—"_ in pleasure, made his very soul soar.

It was a rediscovery of his senses. Like a child who is just learning about textures and all that is new and possible in the world. Remus felt reborn. Every touch was new, every sensation a widening of the mind.

The werewolf had attempted to take things slow. He wanted his mate to know, to feel, that she was loved and appreciated beyond any physical attraction. Remus had postponed any… untoward activities as much as he could, wanting to leave no doubt as to what his real intentions were.

Hermione, however, didn't have the patience for Remus's antics, when it came to the physical stage of their relationship. She wouldn't be denied.

The sexual tension only grew between them as the weeks went by. His mate grew insecure and angry at times, not understanding what was keeping him away. Of course, she wasn't the smartest witch of her age for nothing.

Once the witch stopped looking in and started looking out, she realised she wasn't the problem at all.

Remus had grown quite adept at subtly dodging her advances. He flirted back, dropped an innuendo or two but always managed to pull back at the last minute. It wasn't a lack of physical attraction, that was for sure. But he had one chance, one shot to get this right with his mate and should he fail...

Suffice to say, a frustrated Hermione Granger only made for a _determined_ Hermione Granger. And there was no force in the world that could stop _that._

He had fallen like an unsuspecting prey. Remus had been reading when she knocked on his door. He was taking a second look at the diary, now that he'd cleared up all that pertained to the clauses. Every single entry was a wealth of information, a treasure in itself and it challenged everything he thought he knew about werewolves. This was his main defense for having been so completely absorbed into his reading, so much so that he didn't catch the glimpse of mischief in her eyes when he opened the door.

This was how, as he finished reading the last couple of paragraphs of an entry, he attempted to remove Hermione's coat without tearing his eyes from the page. He succeeded. However, it blindsided him to what was coming.

Not that anything could have prepared him for a fully naked Hermione, sitting on his couch.

"I am done waiting," she said, her voice neutral.

Remus was just finishing one last paragraph, and was preparing to apologise, thinking she meant she was done waiting for his attention. When he finally looked up he choked on air, as he tried to compose himself. In the end, it was futile. She opened her legs for him, giving him a full view of the crux of her body and he was lost.

The scent of her desire hit him like a full speed train and then he thought no more.

He was on her faster than he'd ever remembered moving. The wolf was dangerously close to the surface, acknowledging his mate's need for him.

"That was was very sneaky of you, Hermione," he said, his voice all gravel. Remus's hand went around her throat, lifting her face towards him.

There were no clothes on the floor, her wand presumably in the pocket of the garment hung by the door. She had come here wearing nothing but the coat he had had such trouble removing. Remus felt feverish just at the thought.

"Figured if I let you take charge, I would be very frustrated for the foreseeable future. I'm a hands on kind of woman, Remus, you know that," she whispered as ran her hands over his thighs, latching onto him, hard, over his trousers. The wicked smile with which she said this, made his cock twitch in her hand, making a self-satisfied glint grow in her eyes.

And by Merlin was she delicious.

Being inside her gave new meaning to pleasure. The intimate contact made his nerves sing and his tongue beg for a patch of skin to taste. Their first time together was desperate and perfect. They'd spend the entire night trying to outdo themselves, ever the overachievers.

It was an interesting change of pace. Remus had never been in a serious relationship before, let alone a public one. Hermione Granger was not ashamed of being seen dining with a werewolf, dancing with a werewolf or walking holding the hand of a werewolf.

She had been, however, worried about the Weasleys.

Remus' own insecurities reared their ugly faces, making him think she'd been hesitating on letting them know she was dating an older man who also happened to have been her Professor at one point.

All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind. Remus would have been okay if she had decided to leave their relationship in the dark, content to have her. Why did she have to make it public, then, if she was hesitant to make it public for _everyone_ to know?

It didn't take long for her to notice that Remus went to painful extremes at work to keep their conversations neutral, void of any hint that their relationship might extend beyond that of coworkers.

She'd confessed that her only fear was that Molly would hate her, now that Fred had his memories back. Convinced the matriarch would flay her upon learning she had broken her baby's heart, Hermione had subtly avoided going out anywhere the Weasleys might see them together, which just happened to be most of magical Britain.

"Hermione, you _do_ know that Molly has no idea that you even had a relationship with Fred, don't you?" Remus asked, calmly.

"But surely she must have noticed something was wrong? I would never ask Fred to lie to his mother, so he must have told her _something._ Now she _hates_ me, I know it! I'll be excommunicated and they'll all hate me and ignore me like they did Percy and I'll spend the rest of my life alone on Christmas and my birthday. Poor Harry and Ron will have to live like the children of a divorced family and I'll only get to see them on my birthday and eventually not at all because they'll be busy with their own families which they'll take to Sunday dinners at the Burrow and I'll die alone with no redheads to mourn my passing!" she said with a single breath, tears in her eyes. Halfway through her voice had gone to a pitch Remus was sure he could only hear because he was a werewolf.

Remus had to swallow a laugh. Even after all the years of knowing her, he had no idea she could be so dramatic.

"Love, even if they _do_ know, Fred would never allow them to excommunicate you. You _know_ this," he said, appeasingly.

"I know, it's just… Molly has been known to be irrational when it comes to hearing unflattering news about me," she replied, timidly.

"The rest of the Weasleys would never give you up. Harry would never give you up," Remus said reassuringly."And even if they somehow got hit in the head by too many bludgers and opted to stop talking to you, for some idiotic reason or another, as long as I'm alive, you'll never be alone," he said, half-jokingly but suddenly all seriousness.

They had kissed then. Her with so much gratitude and him with such devotion it took their breath away.

The push and pull had started that very day. Her mission to break his resolve only beginning.

After that first night, though, it was like the breaking of a dam. There was absolutely no need for further coercion on her part, but she kept devising devious plans to make him completely helpless to refuse her.

Hermione was insatiable.

She liked to tease the wolf, challenge his authority. It usually ended with him just going harder on her, which he suspected was her intention from the beginning. She certainly knew how to provoke him.

She had devised a spell that was particularly… perverse. It never failed to rile up the wolf, or the man for that matter.

Not a week ago she'd made use of it during Sunday dinner, the very one she'd been afraid to be banned from.

They were all eating, everyone chatting loudly as the food all but evaporated before their eyes. Hermione was sitting in front of him, on the other side of the table. Arthur was asking her to explain the nature of a paper clip, and Remus had made the mistake of looking up and laughing at the exchange.

His punishment came swiftly and with no clemency. Not a minute later he felt the ghost of a hand in his thigh, going ever higher. Remus could see Hermione had both her hands on the table, on sight, but she didn't need her actual hands when she could make his nerves feel what she wanted with her thoughts alone.

The clever little witch had _invented_ a spell that could turn thought into real sensorial experiences. She hadn't told a soul about it, knowing that such a spell could be used for torture or other horrible ends.

Remus himself could call the uses she gave the spell as torture too, but Merlin, what sweet torture.

Hermione sat there with a straight face, talking completely calm with Arthur, just as she had entirely inappropriate and filthy thoughts. Remus had to grab the table to keep his hands from looking for the body that he could _feel_ was grinding into him, though he could not see it or touch it.

The wolf was trying to work out why his senses were in overdrive and in so much pleasure when nothing seemed to be causing it.

Remus's knee hit the table when the sensation suddenly changed and he could feel a tongue, going through the entire length of his cock. It felt _so good_. Hermione had chanced a glance at him then, her face all tranquillity, but her eyes… her eyes were all fire.

Out of nowhere he felt a hard suck on the tip of his cock, just the way he liked it. Jolted into movement, Remus had to scramble for the spoon and grab a big spoonful of pie and brought it to his mouth. He tried to pretend that the low grumbled moan he let out, had everything to do with food and nothing to do with the vixen sitting opposite of him. The whole table was looking at him strangely, as everyone was still on the savory course of dinner.

"I'm sorry, Molly. I just couldn't help myself," was all he could say for himself, seeing as he was the first to dive into the pie. Molly looked pleased, thinking her cooking had made tranquil Remus Lupin behave like a savage.

"That's alright, Remus," the witch said, looking very self-satisfied. "I've seen Ron do much worse in this very dinner table."

The redhead in question tried to protest, but his mouth was so full of food he was going to prove her right should he attempt to say a word. Ron had to be satisfied with half a growl in objection, and scowled during the rest of the meal.

Emergency averted, Remus took a moment to shoot a warning glance at his witch, attempting to dissuade her of any further tricks as that. He earned himself another suck, making him close his eyes with such force he saw black spots once he opened them again.

 _Oh, you're going to get it when we get home_ , he thought.

And so she had.

Not long after, Remus had chanced making up an excuse to leave early, rushing the witch to follow him. He waited for het at the Apparition point and no sooner of her reaching him, he apparated them away.

Immediately after closing the door behind him, the wolf had made certain to leave no doubt as to who was in charge. Remus had picked her up and flattened her against the closest wall. His mouth was on hers before any full thought could be formed, devouring her. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, grinding herself against him, desperate for friction.

Lifting a hand, Remus wandlessly vanished her clothes but kept his own. Hermione whined at being unable to touch his skin directly but was silenced when Remus grabbed both her hands and held them above her head. With his other hand, he undid his trousers and freed his cock.

The same hand worked its way between Hermione's legs, finding her wet, inviting glory. His thumb found her clit and a single finger went inside her. Between the coordinated movements of both fingers, he had Hermione moaning soon after and asking for more. Remus obliged her.

"Yesss," she hissed.

A second finger followed and then a third, her moans and cursing fueling Remus's desire. Every so often Hermione would complain about a change of pace, the endless teasing driving her insane and her nerves into overdrive.

"Fuck, Remus, please…" she would beg.

After what seemed like hours, Remus finally brought her over the edge, making her cry out his name, which had to be his new favourite sound in the world. But he wasn't anywhere near done with her.

He didn't give her room to breathe before he was entering her at a painfully slow speed. Sensitive as she was, Hermione managed to dislodge her hands from his grip and pulled at the hair on the back of his neck, hard.

"Fuck," he moaned.

Remus was halfway gone, as it was, but he wasn't going to let her off that easily. She would learn her lesson eventually. Teasing had a price.

Securing her in his arms he pulled her frame from the wall and started bouncing her off of him while standing. The position and the sheer force of gravity allowed his cock to reach deeper into her, making her cry out every time she fell onto him.

"Ohh, ohh, you feel so good, Remus," she whispered. " _So_ good."

She was trying to make him come, the little wench. She knew the power her words had on him, and she would have succeeded if it weren't for his single-mindedness in punishing her for yet a while longer.

"Remus, please," she begged but to no avail.

"You'll have to beg a lot sweeter and a lot longer before you get what you want, my love," he growled.

Remus pulled out of her and threw her over the couch. He was rewarded with a frustrated cry from the loss. Hermione needn't have worried, he was just as eager to be inside her again, but before that, he would have his fill of her.

His mouth was on her before she could complain much longer, and the assault was so swift, so forceful, that Hermione was crying out again in no time. One of his hands was on her breasts, the other partnering up with his tongue. Her orgasm hit like a wave that just kept rolling and he remained there while she tried to ride it out.

But he didn't stop.

"Remus, please, I can't…" a cry of pleasure and torture escaped her. "I can't take this much longer.

But he didn't move or stop until she had come again a few minutes later.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, oh fuck, Remus!" Hermione cried.

He retreated in triumph, licking his fingers while she watched. Remus was merciful and gave her an entire minute to recover before entering her again.

Hermione almost complained, before the full pleasure of being filled after the treatment of his tongue hit her, and silenced her.

"Come on, love, one last time," he prompted her.

Her hand immediately descended, two fingers going around his cock, wetting themselves where they were joined, before finding their way to her clit. Hermione was almost as merciless with herself as he had been.

"Come on baby, fuck, I'm almost there," he told her. Her walls clenching around him, making blind with pleasure.

"Remus!"

"Fuck, Hermione!"

They both collapsed on the couch, exhausted but happy and very much satisfied.

"Maybe _that_ will teach you not to tease the wolf," he said quietly, secretly out of breath, not that he would admit it.

"You think that was a _deterrent_?" Hermione laughed out.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?" How he could properly pronounce words with such a big smile on his face, Remus didn't know.

"When it comes to you, I certainly am," she replied easily.

"Merlin, I love you," he whispered as he closed his eyes and brought her closer to him.

There was silence for a moment and suddenly Remus realised what had stumbled out of his mouth. It was true, of course, it had been for some time now, but he didn't think she was ready to hear it.

 _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, please don't leave me_ , was all he could think.

Remus was so busy panicking in his mind that he didn't see Hermione reach out for his face until her hand was on his cheek and he was looking straight into her eyes.

"You do?" she asked doubtfully.

"Of course, I do. You must know that by now," he replied as if it were obvious. And it should have been.

How could he not love her?

"I love you too, you know?" she said.

And in that instant, his world was complete. Remus didn't think his heart could feel fuller or more satisfied than it did then.

She loved him. Hermione Granger loved him. His mate loved him.

 _Elation._

He could only describe what he was feeling as elation. It was almost like he was on some drug or another. This had to be the biggest high he had ever experienced. The antithesis of his transformations. It cured every ailment, every hurt of his soul.

Everything could wait. Anything in the world could be paused but for the love he felt for this woman.

He could feel how the smile on his face distorted his features. The adoring way she looked at him then almost made his chest hurt.

James had been right. There was nothing quite like being on the receiving end of the love of the woman you loved.

Remus kissed her then, and he tried to convey all the love, all the things he wanted to say but couldn't. All the words that jumbled up in his throat every time he laid eyes on her, all the emotions he couldn't describe, all the life changing things he made him feel, all of it, he put into that one kiss.

All Remus could do was hope, against all hope, that she understood. That through that kiss he had somehow managed to communicate how she had changed his life in ways no human being could describe with measly words.

"Remus," was all she managed to say after the kiss was over. Hermione had been affected by the kiss as much as he had been.

He didn't know how long it had been, but for that discourse to be done with he would have to kiss her just so for the rest of his life and still… it wouldn't be enough.

"Remus," she started after gathering her wits. "Remus, I know you have a chosen mate."

And just like that, it all came tumbling over.


End file.
